The Demon Design
by Marz1
Summary: Artemis goes undercover as a normal boy at an exclusive London Prep School. He must uncover the secrets of the Fomorians and avoid their emissaries, because they'll offer him the world for his soul, and he might not refuse.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters in this menial attempt at a story. They belong to the genius Eoin Colfer. Only the plot is my own. Please don't sue me. I spent the last of my money on The Artemis Fowl Files.

**Author's note: **This is a little something that popped into my head while I was working on another story. Don't forget to review.

**Spoilers: **The entire Artemis Fowl series.

* * *

**The Demon Design**

**By Marz**

**Prologue**

**Ireland. 8,000 Years B.C.**

He ran up the steps, ears ringing. His bare feet slipped and he nearly fell. It had rained that morning, and the gold plated stone did not provide adequate traction at the best of times. He ground his teeth. As was the case with most of the royal family, Lord Frond the first had much more gold then intellect.

At the top of the steps two trolls lurched into his path. They growled and would have lunged, had not the gnomes seated on their shoulders tugged their reigns. The giant beasts settled for growling and tossing their heads, throwing venom and saliva from their tusks.

"What is your business here Elder Emon?" the gnome on the right asked politely.

"I must speak with Lord Frond," Emon said. "The Seer of the Mourning Grounds has…" he paused for a moment not wanting to frighten the gnomes with the truth, "…passed on. She left a message for the People."

The gnome nodded and tugged his troll out of the way and the other followed suit. Emon ran hurried through the palace, pausing only once he arrived outside the Throne room, to peer at his reflection in the polished gold plated doors. The scars from the final battle still stood out, pink against the normal blue black of his skin. There wasn't much he could do about that, but he straightened his prematurely white hair, tucking errant stands behind his pointed ears. He smoothed his robes and stretched up to his full height, just over three feet, and pushed the doors open.

The King of the Faries was seated in a woven chair a few feet to the right of the golden throne. Emon laughed a little to himself. A gold throne was very impressive to visitors, but it was murder on the spine. The king was wearing his heavy crown though. Emon could feel the magic of it from the other side of the room. The De Danann had made it well, though Emon was less then thrilled about the head they chose to place it on. Emon gave a perfunctory bow and hurried forward.

"What is wrong Elder?" the king asked.

"Lord Frond, the Seer of the Mourning Ground has died."

"You mean she has passed on," The king corrected.

"No Lord Frond. She is dead."

"But how? The demons are vanquished…"

Emon raised his hands for silence. Too startled to be offended, the king obeyed.

"She left a message for the People, and it is not a bright one. Would you hear it and bare its contents?"

The King nodded, his stomach twisting itself in knots. "It is my responsibility."

Emon nodded and reached into the pocket of his robes. From it he took a single acorn, and set it on the gleaming palace floor. As soon as it touched the ground it sprouted roots, pushing them down through the polished gold as if it were no denser then soil. A stalk grew upwards; leaves already growing from delicate new branched. The leaves whispered together, and the faries listened to their words.

_You will forget and the Demons will walk the Earth_

_Already the Magic fades and I am weary _

_What you have forgotten the Mud People will Learn _

_Beware the Mud People _

_Among them will the Hunter be found _

_Named for the Goddess _

_The Hunter is the Key And the Demons will know _

_The Hunter can free them _

_I am weary _

"This can't be," Lord Frond said. "The De Danann imprisoned them forever outside of time. No mud maid will be able to free them. The mud people have no magic!"

"It is what it is," Emon said. "And we must bare the word to the People."

"No!" Frond said. "It is too soon. The De Danann have only just left us, and the People still shake with memories of the war. They do not need to hear that the Fomorians might some day threaten them again. They need time to heal."

"My Lord, the Seer's words have never been wrong-"

The King waved his hand cutting him off.

"You have done your duty. You have told me the Seer's words. I will deal with this. You may leave."

"But Lord-"

"You may leave," the King repeated, this times his voice laced with the powers of command imparted by the Crown.

The Elder Emon had no choice but to leave.

The following day Emon visited the Warlock's guild, and passed the warning on to them. They wrote the Seer's final words down in their books and passed the books down faithfully. For the next few thousand years, the Warlocks kept an eye on the Mud People, but humans seemed just as primitive as ever. 6000 years later, when the worshipers of a Goddess of the hunt, called Artemis popped up among the Mud People of Greece, the Warlock's interest was peeked, but nothing came of it.

The books were handed down, and handed down. 9000 years later few but the most avid historians bothered reading them anymore. Technology was where the real money was at, not ancient histories about people that no longer existed, and magic no one could conjure anymore anyway. 10,005 years later, when Artemis Fowl the 2nd first matched wits with the Fairy People, no one remembered the book at all.


	2. Full Moon

Author's Note: This is a re-post because, like a moron, I uploaded the first chapter with the middle part missing. Sorry for the mix up.

**Chapter 1: Full Moon**

**Tara, Ireland: 8:35 PM GMT**

Holly Short fought the urge to sigh as another cheerful couple strolled passed. She loved being on the surface, but her job was starting to leach all the fun out of it. At first working in the private sector had been liberating. Not only was her Private Investigation Agency very successful, but she and Mulch, her "I'm reformed, honest!" assistant, also got to show up the head of the LEP on a very regular basis. Her friends in the force told her she had driven Commander Sool's blood pressure up to a dangerous level as she caught thieves, lawbreakers, and goblin gang members twice as fast as the LEP did. The counsel had even gone over a proposal suggesting Holly be contracted as a sort of official bounty hunter for the Lower Element's Police force. It was rejected three to four, but it still had Sool seething and Foaly, Holly's best contact in the LEP and friend, smiling for weeks. There was a catch of course.

Throwing her badge in Sool's face was one of the most satisfying things she had ever done, and she knew Julius would have backed her up there, but now she was dependent on something even more pitiless then that bureaucratic pencil pusher Sool; money.

Private Investigators didn't get a budget from the Haven Counsel. It was sink or swim and if a client couldn't pay they dragged you down like a stone. Still Holly had never turned anyone down if they truly needed her help. To make up the difference she had to take on some less then tasteful cases. Like tonight's for example.

There was a brilliant full moon overhead. Left and right faries were searching the ground under the ancient oak for acorns to complete the ritual and renew their Earth granted magic.

_And what am I doing?_ Holly thought, more then a little bitterly. _I'm following a sprite_.

Ms. Bell Elwood had come to the office a week earlier with 40 oz of gold and suspicions.

"I think my fiancé is cheating on me!" the lady sprite had sniffled into a tissue.

"Is your fiancé a sprite?" Holly had asked.

"Yes," Ms. Elwood wailed.

"Then he's cheating on you!" Mulch had called from the supply closet where he spent most of his time.

The sprite had burst into tears at the Dwarf's hollered comment. Holly had tried to give the sprite her money back and send her on her way, but Elwood wanted concrete video proof of her one-and-only's indiscretion and wouldn't leave until she was signed on as a client.

Holly felt herself scowl as the sprite she was tracking crossed her field of vision. Alve Bork had come up to Tara in a single booked seat on a moderately expensive tour shuttle. Holly had wheeled and dealed to get herself passage on the same vessel, though she didn't shell out enough for the same prestigious deck. Four hours stuffed between two goblins who would not stop licking their eyes had not improved her mood either. Mulch was somewhere on the shuttle as well, but she hadn't seen him. She'd slipped a tracker down the back of Alve's jacket while standing in the line for customs and had been skulking after him, waiting for him to do something stupid, which it looked like he was about to.

She adjusted her video eye. It wasn't quite as high tech as the camera's her old LEP helmet had, but there was no use crying over returned equipment.

"Are you getting this Mulch?" she said.

Mulch was out on the perimeter of the glade. Holly told him he would get better reception there, but really it was to keep him away from the temptation to pick pockets.

"Yep," the Dwarf replied.

Holly watched with a frown as Alve approached a pretty little pixie and began to lay on what sprites considered charm. Holly tinkered with the miniature parabolic microphone strapped to her wrist until she'd isolated their conversation.

"-all by yourself? I'll buy you a spring water," Alve was saying.

The pixie was smiling and fluttering her eyelashes. "How about we go get some dinner instead? There's this nice _secluded _restaurant in the docking station. Their chocolate truffles are to die for," the pixie purred.

"Truffles?" Alve asked. "I don't know. They're kind of fattening aren't they? You wouldn't want to do any more damage to that waist line would you?"

The pixie slapped him and stalked off into the crowd. Alve began to flutter dejectedly toward the ancient oak.

"Certainly wouldn't want to loose that, Ms. Elwood," Holly mumbled to herself.

Mulch was laughing himself stupid over the radio as Holly made her way to the other side of the glade. A hand clamped down on her right wrist. Her free hand went to the illegal buzz baton hidden under her coat. She was about to bring said baton and all of its thousand volts down on the offending faries head when an annoyingly familiar voice brought her up short.

"Holly! Whoa babe! No need to get all excited. Well maybe there is," said Chix Verbil, a former coworker from her time in customs.

Chix grinned at her, fluttering his wings in what he must have supposed was a very charming manner. Holly was sorely tempted to hit him anyway.

"Be quiet Chix!" she said, pushing the sprite out of her line of sight.

"Don't be like that Holly," Chix said, his wings drooping. "Everyone was really sad when you quit. Sool's a real tool." Chix snorted at his own joke. "When are you coming back?" he asked.

"I've started my own business," Holly said, trying not to grind her teeth.

"Oh, yeah. You're a P. I. now. How's that working out?"

"I'm working a case _right now_, Chix!"

The sprite took a longer look at her trench-coat, buzz baton, and other assorted spy gear. She leaned around him, looking for the sprite she actually wanted to see, well the sprite she'd spent the last 72 hours tracking anyway.

"D'Arvit!" she growled.

Alve was gone.

"What's wrong?" asked Chix.

"I lost my mark," Holly said, trying to keep her temper.

She'd saved Chix life a couple of years ago. If she strangled him now it would only make things even, right?

"You're pretty when you're angry," called a voice from above her.

Holly looked up. Her startled grunt was covered by Chix's shout.

"Alve! What are you doing here man? Where's Bell?"

"Oh, I just needed a night off from the nagging. She doesn't even know I'm here," Alve said, floating down in front of Holly's camera.

"So you're the famous Holly Short?" Alve asked. "I thought you'd be bigger. Still you're pretty cute. How about I show you a good time?"

"No thanks," Holly said through gritted teeth. "I'm working a case."

"Really?" Alve asked. "What kind?"

"A sprite thought her fiancé was cheating on her," Holly said. "She wanted me to get her some proof."

Alve shook his head. "I'm glad my girl's not like that."

"This has got to be some kind of record," Mulch laughed into the radio.

Chix and Alve began simultaneous proposals to show Holly a good time. Fortunately for them Holly's attention was drawn to a scream on the other side of the glade. Elves, pixies, gnomes, and goblins were starting to run in her direction as orange light rose up behind them. The ancient oak was burning.

"Is that a Troll?" Chix asked.

"The head's the wrong shape," said Alve.

"What do you think Holly?" Chix asked.

"I think I can't see anything from down here!" Holly shouted, dodging a panicked pixie that surely would have bowled her over.

"Sorry!" Chix said, dropping out of the sky.

His wings kicked up a miniature dust storm as he grabbed Holly under the arms and tried to lift her. Without being asked Alve flew down to help. Together the two sprites were able to pull the elf above the crowed.

Holly starred across the clearing. A large dark figure was squatting under the burning skeleton of the ancient oak. Steam was rising from the thin layer of snow on the ground. Alve was right, the head was the wrong shape to be a trolls, and the creature was too small. It wasn't much bigger then an adult human. It was probably bipedal, but its posture brought to mind a praying mantis rather then a man. Burning leaves rained down on it, but it didn't seem to mind.

About fifty faries surrounded the burning tree, watching the thing and blocking its escape. Everyone watched but no one spoke. No one wanted to name the thing before them. Holly's frown grew deeper. There didn't seem to be any LEP officers among the onlookers.

"Bring me over there," Holly ordered.

The sprites obeyed. Holly dropped lightly to the ground behind the crowd. Chix hovered above her.

"Where is security?" Holly asked.

"There should be three officers on duty," Chix said. "My shift doesn't start for another half hour."

"Three?" Holly asked incredulous.

"Sool's cutting everyone's budget," he said with a shrug.

"Get back to the station. Get an LEP retrieval squad up here, and any other security you can find," Holly ordered.

"Yes Captain," Chix said and buzzed off over the crowd.

He seemed to have forgotten she no longer had any authority. She pushed her way to the front of the onlookers, and fiddled with her video eye.

"Are you getting this Mulch?" she asked.

"Yeah. You want me to try and broadcast to Foaly?"

"Yes. If you get through, tell him we're going to need Warlocks up here."

"You don't think it's really a-"

"It might be," Holly said cutting him off.

She looked over her shoulder. Most of the fleeing mob had made their way back into the station. Her gaze flicked back to the thing sitting in the center of the fire. It was stirring slightly, flexing long serrated claws. _Time to send the rest of the gawkers packing_, she thought.

"Alright!" she shouted into the unusually silent glade. "Any of you off duty LEP?"

Six hands went up. She waved them forward.

"Are any of you armed?" she asked in a low voice.

They shook their heads.

"I need you guys to get these people into the station," Holly said.

"Why should we listen to you?" demanded a gnome.

Holly recognized him from her time as a Corporal working traffic in Haven. She couldn't remember his name. _What would Commander Root have done in this situation?_

"Because I say so!" she growled, pulling the buzz baton from her coat. She pointed out the entrance to Tara with it. "These civilians need to be moved to a safe distance before that thing attacks or the Mud Men show up. Now!" she added when no one moved. "There could be more of them around."

The officers had just started the crowd moving toward the station when the creature jerked to its feet. It approached the crowd, many of whom had stopped again to watch. Its motions were strange and it teetered as if it were about to fall over with each step.

"Move it People!" Holly ordered.

The faries started to run, and the creature increased its pace, rushing toward the retreating crowd. Holly sprinted forward and planted herself square in its path. She waved the baton, and the creature halted. Twenty feet separated them now and Holly could see it very clearly. Its black pebbly skin had thin cracks running through it, and as it breathed the cracks glowed with orange light as if there were embers in its flesh. Its eyes had no whites and its beak like mouth made strange clacking sounds as it starred at her.

"Best go back where you came from," she challenged. "Because you won't get past me!"

It charged.

Holly ducked under the swinging claws and leaped upward, jamming her buzz baton in the creature's throat. It shuddered and stumbled back. Holly danced back as well. The creature tilted its head to the side and watched her. Holly stood with the baton poised.

Her communicator buzzed.

"It's me," Foaly said in a slightly frazzled voice. "Mulch was babbling about something, but there's some kind of riot in the Tara terminal, so unless this is an emergency, Holly I'll have to-"

"Look at the video feed!" she hissed, not taking her eyes off the creature.

"What is this?" the centaur asked. "Is this the new Lord Frond movie? That demon looks really fake."

"It's live feed!" she shrieked as the creature charged again.

Claws sank into her coat. She struck it on the arms with the buzz baton. She twisted and ducked but the claws were hooked in the coat and she couldn't get loose. She got it in the neck again with the baton and it stumbled forward, one of its odd pointed feet landing on her ankle. She heard something crack. She twisted again and half her coat tore away in the creature's hands. The fabric was supposed to be tougher then Kevlar. Holly let the other half of the coat fall to the ground as she hobbled backward. Blue sparks ran up and down her leg as her magic healed her injury.

The thing watched her for a moment, and then charged right passed. She shrieked and hurried after it but her lamed leg wouldn't hold her up and she fell in the now slushy snow.

"Behind you!" she screamed.

Most of the stragglers had made it back to the terminal entrance, but a sizable group were still outside. Holly staggered to her feet. The bones in her ankle wrenched themselves into place. She started to run, but it was too far. The off duty LEP were at the back of the group, urging them forward. The creature leapt and landed on an elf. Faries rushed forward to help but the creature brushed them aside. The elf screamed, and the crowd screamed in response. Faries were scattering, running away into the night. The creature raised its head and the glade echoed with the resounding clacks of its beak.

As Holly ran towards them motion at the edge of the glade caught her eye. Three more creatures were lumbering out of the forest. She gritted her teeth and ran harder. She didn't have breath to spare on a "D'Arvit".

**Tara, E1 Shuttle Bay 8:50 PM **

Major Trouble Kelp sealed up his helmet and turned on his wings. It was against all sorts of regulations to activate one's wings in the docking area, but the Retrieval squad would never make it passed the teaming mob otherwise.

"Good to go?" he asked over the helmet com.

"Yes sir," all seven members of the squad replied.

He made a fist and swung it for ward. "Move out!"

The recon squad flew through the station, whipping up a storm of paper and poorly secured hats. Trouble looked down into the crowd. He saw a lot of sparks, but most of the injuries seemed to be from people trampling each other, rather then from whatever the hell it was the squad was being sent to retrieve. They hadn't received a briefing before boarding the Hot Shot they'd ridden to the surface and now Foaly was yelling something incoherent into the microphone about demons.

The squad landed just short of the gates leading to the surface. It was apparent that someone had tried to seal the emergency doors, and it was equally apparent that someone else had jammed it a quarter of the way open. Faries were still crawling under it on their hands and knees, an endless stream of them trying to get into the relative safety of the station. Trouble sent one of his men to find the station's manager and get the door back up again. He was about to crawl out under the door when a sprite bumped into him.

He wouldn't normally have paid much attention to a clumsy sprite, but this one was carrying enough artillery to flatten half the station.

"Halt!" Trouble ordered.

The sprite stopped short, dropping a Neutrino 4000 on the floor. The sprite pushed up the ridiculous goggles he was wearing and the Major recognized Private Chix Verbil of the LEP.

"Thank Frond you're here sir," Chix said, bending to pick up the gun he had dropped.

"What the hell is going on Verbil?" he demanded.

"There's a demon sir. Holly sent me to get the rest of the security detail, but I couldn't find anyone, not even the station manager. It set the Ancient Oak on fire!"

"Holly Short sent you down here?" Trouble asked.

Chix nodded, dropping another gun. _Thing must be very desperate up there_, Trouble thought. _But it couldn't really be a demon could it?_ The emergency door rumbled to life and began to retract into the ceiling. He didn't have any more time to think about it. He waved his fist again and the squad rushed forward, squeezing past hysterical civilians who were still fighting to get inside.

They ran through the nearly empty outer lobby. There was an elf face down on the floor. The squad stopped while the medic looked him over. Any elf could heal if they had enough magic, but Captain Twill was especially good at it. He rolled the elf over and several members of the squad stepped back in horror. The elf was missing an arm. They left Twill with him and hurried forward. They could hear the battle ahead: strange clicking and shrieking and the sizzle of a buzz baton. And over all of it Trouble heard a familiar voice.

"You want this? Come and get it!" shrieked Holly Short, former Captain in LEPrecon.

There was a sizzle and a thump as a baton found its target. The squad rushed through the hologram that hid the entrance to Tara and once again most of the squad was startled into another halt. That did not include Major Trouble who had his Neutrino 4000 leveled and put three shots into the nearest creature before it even noticed they were there. It stumbled but didn't go down.

"Crank up to maximum!" Trouble ordered.

His eyes were drawn to Holly who was cornered between two of the creatures. She was glowing with sparks as her magic healed up the not so tiny scratches the creature's claws had inflicted on her.

"I'm running out of juice here," she called in a strained voice.

Trouble cranked up his Neutrino and charged toward her. The rest of the squad took up position and opened fire. The creatures clicked angrily and shied away. Holly ducked another lunge from the creatures she'd been fighting and rushed over to the squad. She was limping.

"What took…you guys…so long?" she gasped with a relieved grin.

"We had to stop and ask directions on the way up," Trouble joked.

Holly snorted, and then leaned over to catch her breath. There was faint rumbling beneath their feet and a furry face popped out of the ground a few yards away.

"Are they dead yet?" asked Mulch, as he looked around. "Guess not."

The creatures were slowly backing away under the flurry of laser fire.

"Do you guys still need help?" called Chix Verbil, who had finally caught up with the squad, his arms still full of…arms.

"Negative," Trouble said, as his squad advanced. "Get back in the station and see if you can get things organized. Squads four and seven are on their way up and I don't want civilians standing in the way when they try to dock. Short can you help him out?"

"Commander Root…that's not regulation…" Holly said, struggling to breath.

Trouble turned. "What?" he asked.

He was almost more surprised buy the mention of the martyred former commander of the LEP then he was by Holly's odd behavior.

"Sir I think…I acted in the best interest…I…" Holly didn't finish her garbled sentence.

She dropped to her knees wheezing. Sparks of magic were popping weakly along her back. Trouble jogged over to her. The Dwarf, Mulch was kneeling next to her asking if she was choking. Trouble turned up his helmet lamps and pointed them at Holly's back. He hadn't noticed the wound under the dark fabric of her shirt. There were three parallel slashes in the fabric and underneath it the flesh was dark and discolored. He pulled up the cloth.

"Oh gods!"

Sparks were rising around the wound, but they weren't healing it. The three claw marks were filled with a strange dark green goop that seemed to be eating away at Holly's back, slowly spreading.

Fowl Manor: 9:23 PM 

Artemis Fowl the second sat by the window in his room, watching snow pile up on the sill. A sigh momentarily fogged the glass.

"Arty!" called a cheerful voice from outside his door.

He rose from his chair and opened it. His mother beamed at him. Her cheeks were flushed from a combination and champagne and the oversized red and white hat that enveloped most of her head.

"Arty, don't just sit here alone in the dark. Come join us."

"I'll be down shortly Mother," Artemis replied, trying to smile sincerely.

"It isn't that late," his mother said. "Your friends probably just hit a bit of traffic."

Artemis nodded. His mother told him to invite as many people as he wanted from St. Bartleby's School for Young Gentlemen, the "educational" institute he attended, to the Fowl Christmas Gala, as the invitations described it. His mother had wanted to start a family tradition. He supposed she thought him depressed that none of his classmates had arrived. Artemis had not actually invited any of them, as other teenagers were about as interesting as last years Wall Street Journal. He had in fact invited only two people, Holly Short and Mulch Diggums. And when he said "People" he meant it with a capital "P".

It was their absence that was nibbling away at his venire of Christmas spirit. Though he hadn't seen them face-to-face in almost six month's, he talked to Holly every week, as he was a consultant for her P. I. business. He'd talked to her earlier that evening in fact, on the communicator Holly had hidden in his pocket the last time he was drugged and thrown out of Haven, the People's under ground city.

Holly and Mulch were at Tara ( E1 to those in the shuttle business) on a stakeout, and since they already had visas to the surface, they promised to stop by. He wanted to give them their Christmas presents in private before being forced into the sea of fake smiles and pointless conversation that was his mother's idea of fun.

"I'll be down in ten minutes Mother. I'm just going to call them again and make sure everything is all right."

His mother gave him a nod and a hug and then walked away down the hall toward the noise of the party.

Artemis closed the door again and returned to his seat by the window. He saw Butler crossing the grounds, searching for possible threats. He would come inside to keep an eye on Artemis when he finally decided to go downstairs. The hulking bodyguard looked up at the window and made a few hand gestures, indicating that Artemis should move away from the glass. He'd been told at least a hundred times that this seating arrangement was an invitation to sniper fire. He ducked back until Butler walked out of sight.

Artemis wondered when the proper time would be to give Butler his Christmas present. He had the little box in his pocket. A set of keys tagged with GPS coordinates. He'd had it specially constructed in Germany, but he had designed it and programmed all the control systems himself. It had already been shipped to Dublin.

Artemis was very proud of it. Not only because the design he'd now patented was worth at least several million, but also because he'd done it all without Butler's knowledge. He couldn't help but feel proud that his parents hadn't noticed it either. His father had been watching him very closely the past few months, but this was another thing he'd snuck by under his nose.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door of his room opening. For a moment he was greatly annoyed that someone would enter his private domain without knocking, and then he recognized his father's outline and couldn't decide if he was annoyed or not. How many times had he been just waiting for his father to burst through the door to come talk to him? Even before his father was held hostage by the Russian Mafia for two years, they had been distant. Now that he had his father back, he found himself unsure of what to do about it.

"Hello Father," he said.

His father, Artemis Fowl the first, stepped in without invitation and flipped on the light switch as he came. Artemis blinked owlishly. The door snapped shut.

"You told your mother you'd be right down," he said.

"I told her I'd be down in ten minutes. I still have three left."

His father sighed and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Why are you hiding up here Arty?"

"I am not hiding."

"It's just a party. No one is going to bite you. Come and have some eggnog and meet people."

"I'll be down soon. I'm just waiting for my friends to arrive."

His father's face got a strange pinched expression.

"Artemis, you didn't invite anyone."

Artemis didn't know how to respond.

His father continued. "No one from St. Bartleby's sent an RSVP. Come downstairs. The Winthrop's brought their daughter. She's about your age and I'm sure she's suffering terribly without anyone under 30 to talk to."

To Artemis it sounded like a setup, and though he had been expecting something of the sort to occur, he couldn't for once hide his embarrassment. His father thought him incapable of normal human social behaviors. Really he wasn't. He could write hundreds of pages on human psychology and sociology if given the task. In fact he wished very strongly that that was his given task at that moment.

"I…I still need to make a few phone calls. Two of the people I invited responded with maybes-"

"The circus people?" his father asked, looking slightly exasperated.

Artemis frowned. Of course he had to give some explanation, in case Holly and Munch ran into any of the guests. Three foot tall people with pointed ears weren't exactly run of the mill, even in Ireland.

"Mother met Mr. Diggums two years ago."

"Artemis, you need friends your own age!"

"Why?" The question just burst out of him, and unexpectedly he felt his temper rising. "So I can practice speaking improperly and listening to music that makes my head hurt? I've never come across anyone "my age" who did not annoy me and I am quite certain I had the same effect on them. What is the point of repeating these encounters when the outcome is always the same?"

His father's face went from looking pinched to looking sad. There was a long pause.

"Make your phone calls and then come downstairs. Alright Arty?"

Artemis nodded.

His father walked out and Artemis turned off the lights after him. He went to the window. After only a few minutes he saw a dot dart across the full moon, one dot carrying another dot more accurately. _Holly wearing a set of wings and carrying Mulch most likely_, he thought. Artemis went to the safe in his closet to get out their presents. Despite the awkward exchange with his father the evening was starting to look brighter.


	3. Ask The Impossible

**Chapter 2: Ask the Impossible **

**Fowl Manor 9:28 PM **

Artemis Fowl squinted and backed away from the window. He pulled the binoculars from his desk, and the communicator Holly had given him. He pressed the transmit button. There was no response. He looked out into the night sky again. The figures were still approaching without shielding, using the fairy magic that allowed them to become invisible to the human eye. Whoever was operating those wings was not Holly Short. The flight path was far too erratic. He tried to focus on the incoming pilot, but he or she was weaving too much.

He took his cell phone from its holster and pressed the speed dial.

"I see them," Butler answered without greeting. "The pilot is a Dwarf, possibly Mulch, but I can't be certain from this distance. Move to study on the fourth floor until identity is confirmed."

"Acknowledged," Artemis replied.

Butler hung up and Artemis ducked out into the hall. He could hear the gala downstairs. Several unprofessional voices had started caroling. He was halfway up the steps to the fourth floor when Butler called him.

"They've changed trajectory. They're still heading for you. If you're carrying any LEP gear ditch it."

Artemis still he the communicator with him. He dropped it into the vase that decorated the alcove in the stairwell, and continued on. He paused at the top of the steps, annoyingly out of breath. He walked quickly to the study. The door he entered through was the only way into the room. There were no windows. He went to one of the desks and turned on the older model desktop that occupied it. It was his mother's, and though she usually used it to look up home décor ideas on the net, it did have enough processing power to access the Manor's external security cameras.

The computer took several moments to find the cameras he wanted. He blinked. The Dwarf was most definitely Mulch and he was carrying Holly, whose head was lolling around on her neck. _She can't be dead_, he thought, momentarily stunned. Fortunately not all of his mental processes had frozen up. Another part of his brain struggled for his attention, noting that the Dwarf had lowered his head and squared his shoulders, noting that he was coming straight at the outside wall of the study, and noting above all that he wasn't slowing down.

Artemis threw his hands in front of his face a just as the wall exploded. An airborne two by four sent both the teenager and the desk bouncing across the room and bits of stone shrapnel stung Artemis through his suit. Before he could gather his thoughts, a small hairy man was pushing rubble off of him and tugging him to his feet. Mulch's plaintive voice finally wormed its way into his ringing ears.

"-Warlocks said they couldn't do anything more for her. They were just going to take her back to Haven. But she wouldn't have wanted that. She likes to be on the surface, you know? Elves don't like it underground-"

Artemis looked where Mulch was dragging him. A set of LEP wings sat in the corner of the room and in front of it Holly Short lay face down on the carpet. Her eyes were half open and her breathing was shallow. Her back was covered in what looked like anti-radiation foam, the same foul smelling stuff they had sprayed on him after he had crawled through the plasma conduits in Koboi labs. If it was radiation burns he didn't know what Mulch expected him to do.

"What happened? Articulate," Artemis ordered.

Mulch was shaking. "At Tara there was…well it was…there were four of them but only one at first-"

Artemis shook the Dwarf by his shoulders. "What happened to Holly?"

"Demons!" he finally choked out. "Nobody's seen them in 10,000 years and then they just show up at Tara while everyone is doing the ritual. And of course Holly thinks it's her job to stop them from eating tourists. She got clawed up pretty bad, but her magic patched up all the little stuff, but then, on her back. It's some kind of…I don't know what, but its eating away at her and we can't get it off"

"What's this?" Artemis asked pointing at the foam.

"The Warlocks put it on to keep it from spreading, but I don't think its working."

"What am I expected to do?" Artemis asked.

Mulch looked as if he was a moment away from bursting into tears. "You have to help her. You're the Mud Boy who out smarted the LEP and escaped the time field. You can fix this!" the Dwarf said with absolute conviction.

Artemis swallowed. He knew the basics of human anatomy and first aid, but he was by no means a surgeon. He ran to the bathroom down the hall and pulled the medical kit from the cabinet beneath the sink. His mother had insisted they keep at least one kit on each floor, though to his memory the Fowls had never needed more then a bandage from it. He rushed back to the study.

Artemis took off his jacket and rolled it up, stuffing the thousand dollar Armani masterpiece under the Holly's head. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves. He knelt down and began to wipe away the foam.

"What's been tried already?" he asked.

Mulch paced nervously. "That elf…Major Trouble Kelp, he tried to heal her with his magic. It slowed it down for a few minutes but that was it. They tried giving her an acorn so she could complete the ritual and recharge her own magic, but it didn't work. She couldn't do the ritual. I don't know. She can't have lost her magic, cause she's still sparking every once in a while. Uh…"

"Focus," Artemis ordered.

The foam was mostly cleared away, staining the already ruined carpet of the study. Artemis took the alcohol wash from the kit and poured it over the wound. It hissed and smoked. He looked at the bottle in his hand again, making certain it wasn't peroxide. Alcohol shouldn't react like that. As the last of the wash evaporated the extent of the damage could be inferred if not directly seen.

A thick layer of green slime covered most of her back. At the edge of the slime, tiny blue sparks appeared with depressing irregularity. Even as he watched the slime spread, creeping slowly up towards her neck and down toward her legs.

"What else did they try?" Artemis asked, wishing desperately that Butler would arrive.

His bodyguard must have seen Mulch hit the wall. Artemis' hand went to the cell phone clipped to his belt. He felt the keys under his fingers. Surprised he looked down. The top half of the phone was missing, probably broken when the wall was.

"The Warlocks, the three they sent up anyway, they tried some spells. I didn't understand what they were doing. Whatever it was it didn't work, and they said it was all they could do. Kelp got…uh…very upset. A Warlock got shoved. Anyway, Kelp tried burning it, which didn't help, and he tried to cut it out with his knife, but it just sank in, and…he tried pulling it out with his hands and it nearly burned off his fingers. The Warlocks had to heal him."

Artemis drew back his own hands. His head felt as if it were full of sparks as he tried to pull up every thing he knew about the Fomorians, the ancient Demon enemy of the Fairy People. He didn't have much. The Book, which listed all of the People's laws, barely mentioned them. What it did say was a footnote relating to the succession of Fairy kings. It mentioned something about the Fomorian's defeat and banishment. There was nothing about necrotizing green slime.

"What do you know about Demons?" Artemis asked.

"Nothing really, just stuff from the movies, and I know most of that is made up."

"Tell me anyway."

So for the next three minutes Mulch told him. As Artemis picked and poked at the slime with tweezers and swabs and sprinkled it with disinfectants, antibiotics, and anesthetics, Mulch told him. He told him that Demons were supposedly linked to fire, water, air, or earth depending on the type. He told him they could possess humans and steal their souls. They hated Fairies and their magic was poison to them. They tended to target people who were making out when they shouldn't be. They liked to hang out in graveyards. They used blood in their magic. They were afraid of mirrors and holy water. They tended to melt at the end of the film.

None of it seemed useful.

Artemis tried again to pull off a bit of the slime with the tweezers. If he could get it under a microscope he might be able to do…something. The slime moved away from the metal probe, sinking further into Holly's flesh until another blue spark drove it back out.

"It seems almost conscious," Artemis said.

Mulch shrugged. Artemis moved the tweezers toward the edge of the wound, thinking he might be able to drive it away for a moment allowing Holly's magic to make a little progress. Of course he didn't count on Holly moving, or on the slime touching his gloved hand.

Even through the glove he could feel it. The sensation ran up his arm and into his chest, a strange feeling halfway between hunger and nausea. He pulled his hand away. The glove was discolored, but as he peeled it off the skin underneath seemed unharmed. He backed away shaking. _Where is Butler?_

Artemis racked his brain. They could try hitting the slime with UV or with microwaves, but that could do more harm to Holly. Absently he smoothed down his hair and winced as a sharp sting shot through his scalp. His hand came away sticky with blood. Something had cut him when Mulch broke through the wall and he hadn't even noticed. Holly started to wheeze and he leaned down. If she stopped breathing he didn't know what he could do. She started to curl up in a ball. He straightened her out, but it didn't help. What next, C.P.R. and adrenalin shots? _Where is Butler?_

"It's moving," Mulch said.

"What?"

"It's moving!"

Artemis turned. A strand of green slime was oozing toward his bloody hand.

_Where is Butler?_

**Fowl Manor, The Dinning Hall **

Butler was struggling. He'd seen Mulch crash through the wall of the study, and Artemis hadn't answered his phone since. Something was most definitely wrong. But now, standing between him and his charge was the one obstacle Butler could not over come, Artemis Fowl the first, his boss.

"-so I do not believe it is necessary for you to escort him around the party itself," Mr. Fowl said.

_I should have taken the long way around, up the servant's stairs_, Butler thought. Out loud he said "Yes sir."

He'd been in too much of a rush to get to Artemis, and he had cut through the party to save time. If Mr. Fowl didn't stop talking soon, he'd have to cut him off, which would lead to all sorts of awkwardness, and Mr. Fowl would probably follow him. He had to find some way to get past but he couldn't very well mention the presence of invading fairies.

"You understand how important it is for Artemis to socialize," Mr. Fowl continued.

"Yes sir," Butler replied. "I'll bring him here directly."

"No," Mr. Fowl said, sternly. "I will fetch him. If you are here he'll stand next to you and not talk to anyone. You may continue your patrols of the Manor and grounds."

"Sir, some of your guest have not been subjected to thorough background checks-"

"He will be safe enough. Go and patrol the grounds," Mr. Fowl said.

Butler considered arguing, but that would only waste more time. Instead he nodded and left the hall by the door he had entered through. Once out of sight he ran for the servant's stairs on the other side of the manor. His lungs burned but he couldn't breathe any more deeply, the side effect of a fairy healing gone a little wrong. Holly Short had save his life, but now he had what was basically a flack-jacket embedded in the living tissue of his chest. He was very aware of his reduced lung capacity as he took the steps two at a time.

As he ran he went over the possible scenarios unfolding in the study. Judging by the manner in which they arrived, Holly was probably injured. But if it was something Holly couldn't heal he didn't know what the Faries were expecting from them. They could be running from the LEP, though he couldn't imagine Holly doing anything illegal, or allowing Mulch to pull anything. It was possible she had been framed for a crime, again. This could also mean that an LEP retrieval squad was hot on their heals. He was prepared to deal with another squad, but it wouldn't add to the ambiance of Mrs. Fowl's Christmas party. His vision was starting to get red at the edges and he forced himself to slow down. It wouldn't do Artemis any good if he burst through the door and promptly passed out and, knowing Artemis, there was probably a troll involved by now.

**Fowl Manor, The Study **

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mulch said.

"I agree with you," Artemis said. "If you have something better I eagerly await your next words."

Mulch said nothing. He just handed Artemis another alcohol wipe. Artemis' mind was still whirling with ideas but now they were ones he didn't want. He thought of how Butler or even Mulch should be doing this instead of him. He thought of how unlikely it was that Holly would survive even if they did get the demon slime off. He thought it was more likely that they would both die then that either of them would live. _I want to live._

The slime had tried to grab his hand. He'd pulled away in time, thanks to Mulch's warning. In the following few minutes Artemis had tried a few experiments. He'd waved his clean hand over the slime to no effect, but the blood spattered one incited it to reach for him, and as it did it uncovered a bit of Holly. He had tried to lure it away with a syringe of his own blood (the extraction of which he found to be incredibly unpleasant as it took four tries to get the vein), but that didn't manage to get them very far either. He tried to leave a trail of blood drops to draw it away. It reached for the drops but lost interest in them as soon as they hit the carpet. It clearly required live bait.

The scalpel in the medical kit was still in its sterile packaging, so he wasn't worried about infection. He looked down at his left arm. He wanted to draw blood but he didn't want to mess up the muscle as he intended to pull his arm out of the way before the thing latched on. Mulch stood watching him, the vase from the stairwell in his hands. It looked very large compared to the Dwarf. They'd taken out the communicator but Foaly didn't respond to their calls. Artemis squatted down on the newspaper they'd laid out on the floor. His held the scalpel, glaring at a hand that wouldn't remain steady.

"You're thinking about it too much," Mulch said.

Artemis glared at him. "Just worry about your end of things."

Mulch's part was simple. Once Artemis had lured the slime onto the paper, Mulch would bring over the vase and they would dump it in and put the lid on. It was a plan so simple that everything could go wrong.

"It'll be like a shaving cut," Mulch said encouragingly.

"Dwarf's shave?" Artemis asked nervously.

"Gods no! Our hair's still alive, but I though all Mud Men did."

Artemis made a face at him. He winced in advance and cut.

"OW!" Artemis couldn't help but yell.

He looked down at his arm and frowned. It was barely more then a paper-cut. He would have to do it again. This time he kept his eyes open. Blood ran down his forearm and dripped from his fingertips. He swallowed.

"Ready?"

"Hurry up Mud Boy!" was Mulch's reply.

He held his arm over the slime and let blood drip down on it. The slime reached. Artemis let the blood drip on Holly's back and on the paper next to her. The slime reached for his arm rather then following the drops. Frowning Artemis crouched down, letting his hand rest on the paper at Holly's side. The slime reached. So slowly that he didn't even crinkle the paper, Artemis backed away. The slime reached further, with equal lethargy uncovering Holly's wound. Sparks appeared but he couldn't tell if she was actually healing.

The slime crawled more quickly, rapidly flowing from the injured elf to the floor. It was a lot bigger then Artemis had thought. He backed away and his shoes touched the carpet. The end of the slime was still in the wound.

"Mulch," Artemis called in a shaking voice. "You're going to have to knock the end off of her, because it's not letting go."

"What?"

"Use the lid, scoop the end of it out of the wound, and drag her away so it can't crawl back."

"Can't you?" Mulch whined.

Artemis stopped shaking long enough to give him an icy glare. The Dwarf set down the vase and held the lid as if he were about to throw the discus.

"On three," Mulch said. "One, two, two and a half…uh…" he leaned down. "Three!"

He scraped the lid across Holly's back so hard she almost rolled into the slime on the paper. The end of the slime came free and he dropped the lid. He grabbed Holly's legs and dragged her across the room.

Artemis had about .02 seconds to sigh in relief before he realized the slime was now moving a lot faster and towards him. Artemis scrambled to his feet and held his injured arm above his head, trying to hide it from the slime. It didn't seem fooled. It slid across the carpet toward him. He sidestepped, and the slime chased him in a circle around the room.

"This is getting a little ridiculous," Artemis huffed, on his fifth circuit of the room. "Mulch, could you do something?"

Mulch, who had set Holly on top of one of the study's desks, looked at him questioningly. "What should I do?"

"Get the vase. I'll try to get it back on the paper!"

After six more circuits around the room they finally pulled it off. The slime crawled over the paper and Mulch rolled it up in there and stuffed it in the vase. Artemis grabbed the lid and slammed it on. He rushed to the medical kit and pulled out the bottle of liquid bandage, pouring it around the top and hoping that it would seal the slime in. They both stood watching the vase for a moment. It rattled a bit and then settled.

Artemis took a deep breath and then walked over to Holly. Her breathing was shallow but regular. The flesh where the slime had touched looked as if it had been burned with acid. Sparks so small they were almost invisible popped up in the injury. In the mess of red Artemis saw a little bit of evenly space white.

"Is that her spine?" he asked.

Mulch just looked nauseous. Artemis frowned. If she were human she'd probably need skin grafts, and in her current condition she was probably very vulnerable to infection. He started to run his hands through his hair again when he noticed there was blood all over his shirt, and his arm was still oozing. In the sudden stillness of the room he realized he could still hear people singing at the party. His father would probably come looking for him soon, and he had to find out what happened to Butler.

"Mulch, I have to go downstairs for a bit. I'll find Butler and send him up. Keep an eye on Holly. If the…slime gets out of the vase get Holly out of here and set something on fire. The alarms will go off and it will clear the building."

Mulch nodded. "Tell Butler to bring something to eat while he's at it."

Artemis laughed and it sounded slightly hysterical even to him. He shut the door behind him. His suit was ruined of course. He was covered in blood and sweat and plaster. He found himself hurrying as he descended the stairs. He could hear someone coming up from a lower floor. It likely wasn't Butler. The steps were too slow. He got off on the third floor and headed for his room. He checked his watch. It was 9:52. It had seemed so much longer.

He opened the door to his room and stopped dead. His father was standing in front of the door with his arms crossed and a disappointed look schooled onto his features. Artemis suspected he'd been practicing it while waiting. Of course that look vanished as he took in Artemis' appearance and the blood running down his arm.

"D'Arvit," Artemis mumbled under his breath.


	4. Fall Out

**Chapter 3: Fall Out**

**Fowl Manor, Artemis' Room**

"Hello Father," Artemis said, in what he thought was a completely calm tone. "Have you seen Butler?"

As he spoke he slowly began to tuck his left arm behind his back. His forehead started to itch and he hoped the liquid he felt trickling there was only sweat. That hope was dashed when his father's hands darted out and caught the sides of his head.

"What happened?" demanded his father, as he tilted Artemis' head around and picked through his hair, inspecting the gash in his scalp.

Artemis thought fast. To the uninformed observer it would appear instantaneous, but to Artemis the idea seemed to take forever to form, and he suspected his father would notice the pause as well.

"I was in the bathroom down the hall. I was pushing open the window and it fell out of the frame. It hit me on the head, but it's nothing serious, Father. I'm going to speak to Butler about it directly though. I'm rather surprised he didn't notice it was faulty when he inspected the Manor before the party."

His father was staring at him, still not letting go of his head. Artemis composed a mental checklist. Not only would he have to get the wall on the fourth floor repaired, but he was going to have to get Butler to knock out the window in the bathroom.

"I just need to retrieve my jacket," Artemis said. "Mother's expecting us at the party after all."

His father let go, though the suspicious staring continued. Artemis stepped past him carefully moving his left arm around in front of him as he did. He headed for his closet and for an entire half second he thought he had a chance of getting away with it. Then his father's hand came down on his shoulder.

"There's blood all over the back of your shirt," his father said in a strangely flat voice.

"It's nothing," Artemis insisted, trying to shrug him off.

"Turn around," his father ordered, even as he got hold of his other shoulder and 'helped' him along.

Artemis really did not appreciate being manhandled, even by family.

"Hold out your arms," his father ordered.

"I really do not see the point of all this-" Artemis began.

"Now."

Artemis obeyed, cursing his decision to wear short sleeves.

"The glass broke. They're very shallow. It's nothing to worry about," Artemis hurried to explain.

He was surprised at himself. He'd never lied that badly before. Of course he'd never been caught before either. It was a new experience and he honestly did not care for it. His father's eyes ran over the cuts and up to the puncture wounds in the crook of his arm, where Artemis had eventually succeeded in drawing blood.

"Let's go see it then," his father said.

"What?" Artemis asked.

"Let's go have a look at the broken bathroom window. We can get a bandage for you while we're at it."

Artemis opened his mouth, but he couldn't come up with anything even slightly convincing. His father turned him around again and marched him out of the room.

"You may not have noticed," his father said, "But you are covered in plaster dust. There's a trail of it leading to the stairs. Perhaps we should have a look at those first."

Artemis looked down. His black suit pants were indeed covered in the tell-tail white dust. He wondered how he could have missed that. He considered running for it, not that that was much of an option. Despite having a prosthetic leg his father was still much faster then he was. His mind whirled as they walked up the steps. Artemis dragged his feet and stomped. It was a very blatant attempt to warn Mulch they were coming but the Dwarf was clever, he might be able to hide himself, Holly, and the vase full of demon slime before they got there.

The door of the study was closed, but Artemis could hear someone moving around behind it. He looked down at his traitorous footprints, at their highest concentration there. Perhaps things weren't beyond salvaging.

"Father there is a very good reason to keep this door closed. We should turn around and go downstairs, please."

His father looked him in the eye. "What reason?"

"I can not disclose-"

His father cut him off by opening the door.

The hole in the wall caught his father's attention first. He stared for a moment. Artemis looked to the spot where he'd left Holly, but she and Mulch were both gone. Instead of the fairies, the room was occupied by a slightly perplexed Butler.

**Fowl Manor, The Study (four minutes earlier)**

Butler recognized the footprints on the steps as Artemis' but he kept going. The prints were evenly spaced and firmly planted, indicating and even stride. His charge was not seriously injured, and the isolated footprints indicated he was alone. Whatever was going on in the study was probably the priority.

Butler could hear voices coming from the floor above. One of them he recognized. Butler took the Sig Sauer from its holster as he approached the door. Mulch was talking to someone else, another fairy since they were speaking gnomish. Slowly, with stealth that would have made a cat jealous, he turned the knob and pushed the door open a few centimeters, lifting it as he did so the hinges wouldn't creak.

Two LEPrecons were hovering outside the Manor, clearly visible through the meter wide hole in the wall. The fairies would not be able to enter the Manor without an invitation from a human who lived there, so Butler wasn't terribly worried about them. They could shoot into the building out of spite he supposed, but LEP officers were usually more professional then that. He pushed open the door another foot and slipped inside. The fairy that was talking didn't immediately notice Butler enter, but the officer behind him did, and he let out a very unprofessional shriek.

Mulch jumped and turned, but when he saw it was Butler he relaxed a little. Butler took in the rest of the room. What he saw lying on one of the desks nearly made him drop his gun; well, as near as a Butler ever came to dropping his or her weapon in a combat situation. The barrel actually lowered several centimeters. His sensei would have cracked his skull if she saw him.

Holly Short was stretched out on top of a reading desk with Artemis' jacket rolled up under her head. The elf's tiny hands were clenched around the fabric and her eyes were half open. The expression was very understandable though, considering the state of her back. It looked as if she'd been splashed with acid. Her healing magic was working on the wound, but it was very weak.

"What happened?" Butler asked Mulch.

"She was attacked by Demons-"

The Dwarf cut himself off. Everyone in the room heard the stomping in the stairwell. Butler pointed at the LEP officer hovering outside.

"Cam foil, quick! Then shield," he ordered.

The fairy tossed him a sheet of the thin polymer cloth. Butler carefully picked up Holly and put her in the foot well under the desk and then shoved Mulch into the cramped space as well. Mulch pointed desperately to a vase on the other side of the room, and Butler thrust it into his arms before covering the two fairies in the foil. The cam foil shimmered for a moment and then blended seamlessly with the shadows under the desk. He noticed the LEP wings sitting in the corner as the knob started to turn and pitched them through the hole in the wall. Butler stepped back just as the door opened and Mr. Fowl and a very disheveled Artemis stood staring at him.

Artemis was so relieved he almost smiled. Butler had come to the rescue after all. Artemis' bodyguard didn't flinch under his father's gaze.

"Sir," Butler said neutrally.

Artemis' eyes darted to the corner. The vase was gone and through the hole in the wall he saw the telltale shimmer of a shielded fairy. For a moment he thought Holly might have recovered enough to hide herself and Mulch, but then he noticed the way Butler was standing. The towering bodyguard's posture was too casual to be casual. He had put himself between the door and one of the desks in the study. Holly and Mulch were probably underneath it. That meant the fairies outside were probably from LEPrecon.

"Butler, what happened here?" Artemis' father asked.

"I'm not certain sir. Please move to yourself and Artemis to a more secure location until I've had time to complete another sweep of the Manor."

"It looks safe enough to me," said Mr. Fowl as he stepped into the room.

"Sir, I must insist-" Butler began in a no-buts tone.

"I'll take it under advisement," Mr. Fowl said sharply.

Artemis stood, jaw clenched as his father inspected the stained carpet and the damaged wall. His father went to the smashed remains of the computer. Butler stepped out of his way, and Artemis could tell he was torn. No doubt his bodyguard wanted to inspect his injuries, but he couldn't move without leaving the desk open to Mr. Fowl's inspection.

"It looks as if a wrecking ball hit the side of the Manor," his father said. "But of course that did not happen."

Butler waved Artemis over and began checking his injuries. The bodyguard's eyebrow went up as he saw the punctures in the crook of Artemis' arm, but he didn't say anything. Instead he took a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to the still bleeding cut on his forearm. Artemis halfway bit back a yelp.

"This is going to need stitches," Butler said.

As he spoke Artemis noticed Butlers' free hand. Slowly he began to fingerspell in sign language.

L. E. P. 2 F. O. R. H.S. & M. D.

Artemis nodded. They needed a distraction so Holly and Mulch could leave. Artemis did have one last resort. He detested using it. It was not that he hadn't practiced it to perfection, or that he was embarrassed by it, but rather it was the guilt that made him desperate for another solution. Still, the only other thing he could think of was to ask the LEP to stun his father and perform a memory wipe, and that would lead to all sorts of unpleasant consequences. Artemis only hoped that the fairies wouldn't interfere. He signaled to Butler, who frowned but nodded. Artemis took three steps toward his father and proceeded to have a very convincing seizure.

Major Trouble Kelp's mouth dropped open and he lowered the gun he'd trained on Artemis Fowl Senior. He started to lean through the hole in the wall but a wave of nausea forced him back out. He couldn't enter the mud men's dwelling unless they invited him or called for help, and neither of them did that. The two adults knelt down next to the boy who was shaking and foaming at the mouth. They poked at the ailing mud boy for a few seconds, then Butler picked him up and all three left the room.

According to information he'd been able to get out of Mulch before Butler's arrival, the mud boy had been up to his elbows in demon slime. Somehow he had gotten it off of Holly and saved her life. Now he was flopping around like a fish out of water. It didn't take a genius to figure out the events were related. He wondered why Butler didn't call for help though.

"He's faking it," Mulch said, answering the unasked question as he crawled out from beneath the cam foil.

Trouble didn't ask for more details. The important thing was to get Holly back to the Warlocks. Now that the slime had been removed they should be able to patch her up. Trouble didn't often find himself wanting to hug Dwarfs. The smell alone was enough to turn an elf's stomach, but in this instance he though he might almost be willing to make an exception.

When Mulch had knocked down Captain Twig and stolen his wings and Holly, Trouble had been torn. Commander Sool had ordered him to bring Mulch and the body back. Trouble had growled that Holly wasn't dead yet. The Commander didn't seem concerned. He just repeated the order and asked Trouble if he wanted to be a private on traffic duty again.

He knew from the moment Mulch took off where he was heading. It wouldn't have been difficult to cut him off, but Trouble didn't have the heart. Mulch seemed sure the mud boy could do something that the People couldn't. Trouble did not believe it, but Mulch's certainty gave him hope. He and his brother, Corporal Grub Kelp, had taken the long way around to the Manor and in those few extra minutes Fowl had pulled it off.

Mulch dragged Holly over to the window, and was lifting her up toward the hole and Major Trouble's out-stretched arms when his helmet com buzzed. Foaly's voice rang in his ears.

"Don't bring Holly back!"

"What?" Trouble asked.

"Don't bring Holly back to Tara! Sool- I'm going to strangle that gnome! I-"

"What is it?" Trouble demanded.

"Sool's ordered that Holly and anyone who's had contact with her be placed in quarantine."

"So?" Trouble asked, "That isn't such a bad idea. Where is it going to be? The Tara terminal is the most likely-"

"He wants it set up at Howlers' Peak," Foaly said. "The counsel just gave Sool emergency authority, since the people haven't had any sort of military besides the Lower Elements Police since the Demons were banished. Haven is almost totally in lockdown."

"When did all this happen?" Trouble demanded. "I left less then half an hour ago."

"The word demon moves very fast. Sool is on his way back from the counsel right now. I've got cameras in the counsel chamber if you want to see how it went down…oh wait…incoming transmission from Sool. I'm supposed to hook him up to your helmet cam."

"Give me thirty seconds," Trouble said, as he lifted his visor.

Mulch was watching him, Holly still in his arms. "What's up?"

"Sool just got emergency authority in Haven. Foaly doesn't think it's a good idea to bring her back."

"What?" Mulch asked. "Where is she going to go? Are the Warlocks going to come here?"

"No," Trouble said. "Put her arm out the window. Grub, get over here."

Haven, Sool's Private Shuttle 

Commander Sool tapped his fingers impatiently as he waited for that incompetent centaur to patch him through to the surface. He knew Foaly was stalling of course. He probably didn't want to admit Short was dead. He was just opening a tin of herring, imported from the surface, when the light on his com screen blinked. He hid the tin out of the camera's view and answered.

"Report Kelp!" Sool ordered.

The screen split in half and two elves began talking at once. Sool tried to control his blood pressure. He'd forgotten there were two Kelps on this particular assignment.

"Major Kelp report!" he clarified.

One of the elves looked slightly put out, and his face disappeared from the screen.

"Sir we are unable to retrieve civilian Holly Short at this time," Major Kelp said.

"Why? Is she dead yet?" Sool asked.

He could hear Kelp's teeth grinding through the microphone in his helmet. "No sir. Civilian Short is alive and improving rapidly. Artemis Fowl was able to remove the demon venom."

Now Sool was grinding his teeth. Of course the Mud boy was now involved in this.

"Then why can't you bring her back?"

"Fowl ordered Holly not to move until he found Butler, who was apparently sent to get bandages. We have not been invited in, and so cannot enter the residence."

"What about the Dwarf? Have you arrested him for the theft of those wings yet?"

"No sir. And with all due respect, sir I see no reason to. Mr. Diggums took those wings in order to acquire medical attention for civilian Short. He has since returned them, undamaged."

"I don't care! I want them both in Howler's Peak by dawn. If you come back to Haven without them you'll be on traffic duty for the rest of your life. Is that understood?"

"Affirmative," Major Kelp said. "But Mr. Diggums is currently in a mud man's dwelling…"

"Then order him to come out!" Sool shouted.

"Come out!" Major Kelp ordered.

Sool heard the dwarf's reply. "Uh…no."

"He won't come out," Kelp relayed needlessly.

"Report back to Tara and get your retrieval team together. I want those fugitives in custody."

"Sir, shouldn't we be hunting the Demons?"

"You will go where you're ordered or you'll be an inmate at Howler's. If you're not at Tara in ten minutes I'm sending the retrieval team after you!"

"Affirmative."

The com link cut out. Sool growled. He reached for his tin of herring just as the shuttle hit turbulence. The pungent fish splattered all over the inside of the cab.

"Why do bad things always happen to me?" he wondered allowed.

The universe chose not to respond.

Fowl Manor, The Infirmary 

Artemis Fowl the 2nd considered himself ready for any sort of challenge. He was a superb actor and well versed in all aspects of human physiology, and knowledge of both were required in his current situation. His father had apparently gone down to the party and asked if there was a doctor in the house. Unfortunately for Artemis there were sixteen of them. The Fowls associated with a well educated crowd.

At that moment Artemis was doing all he could to convince a Neurologist that he had had a seizure. This didn't require much besides slurred speech, constricted pupils, and a very strange EEG read out. Of course he was only physically capable of the first of these, still he thought he had the doctor convinced. His father was another story. He could see his shadow at bottom of the door, pacing. He hoped Butler would be able to remove all evidence of the People's visit without his help. The Neurologist, Aaron Bechlam recaptured Artemis' attention.

"Son," he started in a very patronizing manner. "It's very important that you tell me what you've injected yourself with. It could take hours for the blood tests to come back and you could get worse before then."

"I…did not…I want to sleep…" Artemis said.

"Was it morphine? Some sort of opiate?" the doctor asked.

Artemis was tempted to tell him that he was in fact pretending to have an epileptic seizure and that opiates would result in completely different side effects, but he kept his mouth shut and only shook his head. Artemis saw his father's shadow move away from the door. He didn't know if he should be relieved or not.

"I want…sleep…" he told the doctor.

Bechlam nodded and walked out. Artemis could hear him speaking to his mother. She sounded nearly hysterical and when the doctor dropped the word "drugs" she moved entirely into that stage. Artemis sighed. It would be impossible to tell them about the People now. When one was suspected of drug use was probably the worst time to tell people one was seeing elves. His mother was eventually escorted away. Artemis had been in the Infirmary nearly an hour when Butler arrived.

"Have they gone?" Artemis asked.

"They weren't in the study. I'm not certain if they've left the grounds," the bodyguard reported.

"Have the security videos been altered?"

"Yes sir."

"And what did you remove?" asked a cold voice from the doorway.

Neither Artemis nor Butler had heard it open, but Artemis' father was now standing behind them, and he was not in the least amused.

"What did you remove from the security tapes?" Mr. Fowl repeated.

Butler looked at Artemis.

"I'm not asking him," Mr. Fowl said stepping between his son and Butler. "I am asking you."

"I can't say sir," Butler replied.

"You can. You were contracted by me to protect my son, not to be a henchman in whatever hair-brained scheme he's pulling. He is 15. You are the adult. What did you remove from the security tapes?"

Butler's impassive expression did not change. "I can't say sir."

Mr. Fowl looked between his son and the bodyguard.

"You're fired Butler."


	5. At a Loss

**Chapter 4: At a Loss**

**Fowl Manor, The Infirmary **

Are you sitting down?

Butler had never understood why people so frequently asked that question before delivering bad news. Perhaps 17th century ladies in whalebone corsets would need that sort of forewarning, but in modern times it had seemed strange that such a phrase had persisted. Still as his legs gave out and his rear end hit the floor, he rather wished Mr. Fowl had asked.

Peripherally he was aware of Artemis gasping in shock as 270 pounds of Bodyguard landed so gracelessly. The entire scene was rather undignified.

"Father you can't!" Artemis said.

"I can, and I did. Butler, you have an hour to remove any personal property from the Manor."

Butler got to his feet and staggered out of the room, moving as if he had recently been hit on the head with a sledgehammer.

Artemis pulled himself up to his fullest five feet of height.

"Father you can not do this."

"Why not?" his father asked.

"Because!" Artemis said in a voice that was growing surprisingly shrill.

"He is a bad influence on you," his father said in a tone that bordered on condescending.

"He's a bad influence?" Artemis repeated.

"He hasn't established a professional relationship. Clearly neither of you understands that he is the adult, and is therefore responsible for you. He does nothing to control your actions. Apparently he is content to follow you into any number of dangerous situations."

"He is an exemplary bodyguard," Artemis said, regaining control of his ability to debate. "He does what he was hired to do. He is not a babysitter."

"Perhaps I need to find one for you."

"I do not believe this!" Artemis said. "You can not make Butler leave! You can't! This is…" Artemis took a deep breath, trying to get his emotions under control. "This is completely unprofessional. Butler's conduct had not put him in violation of his contract. He did as I asked, in order to protect me to the best of his ability."

"And what was on those tapes that you need to be protected from?"

"I am not at liberty to discuss it."

"This is preposterous," Mr. Fowl said. "You are a child and it is apparent that Butler's presence has lead you to believe otherwise."

"You can't make him leave!" Artemis said. "He's my…friend," he finished almost inaudibly.

His father put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know you don't see it right now, but that is the problem. He is the problem."

"He is not the problem!" Artemis declared, stepping back. "Butler is the only one who has never been the problem. Butler is not the one who took on the Mafia and nearly got killed. Butler is not the one who had a nervous breakdown and refused to leave the attic for a year. Butler most definitely is an adult and he is probably the most stable adult in this building. Butler is not the problem."

Artemis looked into his father's eyes and realized he may have struck too directly. His father's face had become completely blank. He may as well have said 'I wish Butler was my father instead of you.' Artemis was disturbed to find, upon contemplation, that at this moment it was true.

"Butler is not your bodyguard anymore," his father said coldly. "He is leaving the Manor and he will not be invited back."

"If he goes, I'm going too!" Artemis stated.

"You are going nowhere but your room."

And then came the stage of the argument where lines were crossed and all rationality was abandon. Artemis crossed his arms over his chest.

"You can't make me."

His father grabbed him and in one fluid motion threw him over his shoulder. Artemis was so shocked that it took him an entire two minutes to regain control of his faculties.

By that time they were moving through the entrance hall, past the last of the guests.

"I demand you put me down this instant! You are humiliating us both!"

He wanted to pound his fists against his fathers' back, but that would look too much like he was having a tantrum. His father stopped well short of Artemis' room, opening the door to one of the guest rooms instead.

Artemis frowned as he recognized the room. It was a remnant from before the Fowls were "operating on the straight and narrow". There were no windows. There was no phone jack, much less a LAN line. The room was sound proofed and lined with plywood instead of sheet rock. There was a connected bathroom, equally free of access to the outside world. It was a room designed for guests who did not want to stay.

His father dropped him on the bed, kicking up a cloud of dust. He was already out the door by the time Artemis righted himself. He rushed to the door, but of course there was no knob on the inside. Artemis stood staring at it.

"I believe I've been grounded," Artemis said to himself in a small voice.

**Fowl Manor, Butler's Room**

Butler bumped into three different walls and missed two steps on the way back to his room. He typed in the code and pressed his palm to the scanning panel. The door sprang open. Butler walked in, without bothering to check for bombs, poison gas, or even a random knife-wielding assassin. He walked to the bed, neatly made and rarely slept in, and allowed his knees to give out again. He barely avoided landing on the elf that already occupied it.

Mulch, who had been looking through the bureau, quickly turned his attention and an innocent expression on the massive bodyguard but Butler didn't seem to notice him. Holly dragged herself around on the pillows. She still didn't have much feeling in her legs. After several awkward minutes of watching the human stare blankly at the wall, Holly cleared her throat. Butler didn't seem to hear.

The recharge of magic that Grub Kelp had given her had probably saved her life, but she still felt dizzy. More then anything she wanted to sleep for a few weeks, but anything that could affect Butler this way was likely world shattering.

"Are you hurt?" Holly asked in a wavering voice.

The giant human shook his head.

"Is Artemis alright?" Holly asked.

Butler nodded.

"What happened?" Holly asked.

"Artemis was faking the seizure to distract Mr. Fowl. I knew it wasn't a good idea, but there wasn't exactly time to discuss it. Intellectually they're nearly equals, and neither of them seems to realize it."

"Butler," Holly said, dredging up the last shreds of magic Grub had given her. She grabbed hold of his sleeve and tugged until eventually he turned to look at her. She made eye contact. "Tell me what's wrong," she ordered, voice resonating with mesmer.

Butler blinked slowly. "Mr. Fowl fired me."

Holly and Mulch exchanged glances. They waited for him to continue, but he went back to staring at the wall. It was as if someone had scooped out his brain. They were still silent and indecisive when a soft knock came at the door. Butler made no move to answer until a voice called out equally softly.

"It's me, Angelina. Butler, please open the door."

Butler got to his feet. He scoped up Holly and the pillows she was lying on and deposited the entire armload gently and silently in the closet. Mulch had already dived under the bed. Butler opened the door and after a moment's hesitation, Mrs. Fowl stepped inside. She'd never been in Butler's room before. None of the Fowls ever had.

"Butler, I'm so sorry," she started, her pale hands nervously ringing a bright red Christmas hat.

"It's my own fault ma'am," he said, cutting her off in a defeated tone.

"It most definitely is not," Mrs. Fowl said. "This is the first time Timmy and Arty have really…butted heads over something. I know it is normal behavior for a teenager to test boundaries, but…well you know Arty. When he tests boundaries he brings in a crack team of rogue Special Forces officers. Timmy explained the argument and really it isn't your fault. He'll see that soon. They'll sort themselves out in a few days. Really, everything will be alright," she said, sounding as if she were desperately trying to convince someone of those facts.

"Maybe Ma'am," Butler said, not sounding convinced.

Holly shifted a bit and tried to look through the space under the closet door. She'd expected Butler's closet to be a bit more organized then this. The floor was cluttered with boxes, shoes, and giant orange stuffed bear that she really wouldn't have expected to find in there. She heard foots steps in the hall outside, but Butler didn't seem aware of them. The silence in the room suddenly grew tense.

"Oh, Timmy don't…"

Holly saw another set of feet enter the room.

"This is a restraining order," said a deep voice that would belong to Artemis in a few years. "I've had it faxed through Fowl Legal services to all law enforcement agencies in Ireland. These are your termination papers," the voice continued.

Holly heard said papers rustling.

"Timmy you need to calm down," his wife insisted, though he sounded in complete control to Holly.

"No he doesn't ma'am. If you'll both excuse me, I only have 23 more minutes before I must vacate the premises," Butler said.

Holly heard Mr. Fowl walking away, but Mrs. Fowl lingered.

"I found this in Arty's jacket pocket. I suppose he meant to give it to you tomorrow, but-"

"Thank you ma'am," he replied.

When Mrs. Fowl's footsteps had faded as well, Butler closed the door of his room and opened the closet. He scooped up Holly and her pillows and put her back on the bed. The shell shock seemed to have worn off.

"What are you still doing here?" Butler asked.

Mulch popped out of under the bed.

"Sool's ordered Holly quarantined indefinitely in Howlers Peak."

"Isn't that the goblin prison?" Butler asked.

Mulch nodded.

"Where are they going to put all the goblins?"

"Trouble seemed to think they would still be there," Mulch said.

"Well that is…unfortunate."

Mulch nodded. "We were going to ask if we could crash here until some of this blows over, but…"

The three of them awkwardly avoided eye-contact.

"Does the rule of invitations apply to hotels as well?" Butler asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," said Mulch. "But even if LEPretrieval can't get us inside the hotel, they'll get Holly on the way there. I can't take her in a tunnel with me."

Butler got a very Artemis like expression on his face.

"Don't worry. I have a plan."

**Fowl Manor, The Driveway **

The cabbie stood around awkwardly as the giant loaded a trunk and several boxes into the boot of the cab, and then went back to the steps of the mansion to pick up more. There was a well dressed man with a creepy cold expression watching the giant move things, staring down from an upstairs window, and a well dressed lady standing the doorway, crying into a red Christmas hat. The cabbie had been around for a lot of awkward breakups, but this had to be one of the strangest. He was quite certain the giant had put a missile launcher in the back of the vehicle, but he really didn't know how to go about mentioning it, much less objecting to it. The pile of junk on the steps rapidly disappeared, until all that was left was an oversize orange bear.

"If anything of mine turns up, could you please have it forwarded to me?" the giant asked the lady, as he scoped up the bear.

"Of course," the lady said. "I'm sure we'll sort this out. You'll be back to taking bullets for Arty in no time, I'm sure." "Thank you ma'am."

The giant gave a respectful nod to the man in the window and then picked up the ridiculous bear. The cabbie went about minding his own business.

"If I choke on this junk, I'll kill you," said the bear.

"Homicide is a rather unusual behavior for a stuffed bear," Butler murmured with a hint of a smile.

"These polyurethane beads are terrible for the environment," the bear hissed.

"And they are equally bad for the People's scanning equipment, if I recall correctly. If it's bothering you that much you could always try to dig your way there. I'm sure Mulch wouldn't mind the company."

The bear only growled a final time in response, before being placed in the back seat of the cab.

"Where to?" asked the cabby, doing his best to ignore the fact that his giant passenger appeared to have been talking with his stuffed bear.

"Newgrange," the giant replied.

"That's a long way," said the cabbie.

The giant handed him a roll of bills large enough to pay his rent for the next three months.

"Right," the cabbie said as he started the engine. "Mind if I turn on the radio?"

"Yes," said the bear.


	6. Acting like a Teenager

**Chapter 5: Acting Like a Teenager**

**Fowl Manor, The Breakfast Nook **

"The drug test came back clean," said Mr. Artemis Fowl the 1st.

"Of course it did," Mrs. Angelina Fowl said as she stabbed her grapefruit with her spoon.

Juice shot out across the table and splattered on the medical reports her husband was looking over. He raised his eyebrow at his wife, but she did not apologize. He dabbed the papers with a napkin.

"He had puncture wounds all over his arm. He was injecting himself with something," he said.

"Did you ever stop to think that he might have been taking blood out? He's fascinated by the sciences. Maybe he was running tests on himself," she said.

"Then why doesn't he just say that?" Mr. Fowl asked. "And even if that were the case, how did he get those slashes on his arm? If he weren't doing something wrong, why would he have Butler erase the security video? He removed footage from the external cameras as well. Someone not only came to our home, they punched a hole in a wall, and Artemis is covering it up. He's lying to me."

"To lie he would have to be speaking to you," Mrs. Fowl pointed out. "How long has it been? Three days now?"

"I've read over the notes the school psychiatrists took during his sessions. Most of them are convinced that he's some sort of sociopath, but none of them have even hinted that he had a self-destructive bent."

"Arty wouldn't hurt himself on purpose," Mrs. Fowl said. "He winces when he clips his nails."

"This sort of psychosis is linked to an inability to express one's self in a social context," Mr. Fowl began to lecture. "This is undergraduate level psychology-"

Mrs. Fowl picked up half her grapefruit, placed it upside down on the medical file and slammed her fist down on it.

"Emotional outbursts: I'm certain that's near the beginning of the textbook as well," she said. "If you'd actually asked my opinion I'd tell you to go apologize to your son for locking him in a room, but since I'm only his mother, what would I know?"

She stood up gracefully from the table and swept out of the room. Her husband thought she may have been trying to storm out, but she probably wasn't capable of it. He looked down at the files and the fruit crushed all over them. He kneaded his eyes with his fists for a moment. He knew he was not the one who was wrong. His son was out of control, and he knew that was his fault, but it wasn't going to get better until he did something about it. He got up from the table and saw that there was grapefruit splattered all over the front of his shirt and lap as well. He thought about changing first, but instead went straight up the stairs to Artemis' new room. The door was still locked from the outside. He opened it. The lights were out.

"Artemis?" he called into the dark.

There was no answer. He felt around for and found the light switch. He turned it on. The room was empty.

* * *

The Green Dolphin Inn, Newgrange 

Artemis knocked on door number 316. There wasn't a doorbell. There wasn't an elevator, either. It was all very quaint. He stretched his legs. It had been a long walk from the bus station. It had been an even longer walk to the bus station. The map claimed it was just over eight miles, but he didn't believe it. Still, he was rather proud of himself. He'd left Fowl Manor at 5:30 that morning and now, thirteen hours later, he had made it all the way to Newgrange without being kidnapped, robbed, assaulted, or murdered, and all without Butler's help. It felt rather like he'd come the whole way without one of his legs.

Originally he'd planned to just sneak out of the manor and call Butler for a ride, but his father was probably searching for Butler, and it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that Artemis Fowl the 1st had set up taps on local pay phones in an attempt to trap Artemis Fowl the 2nd. Artemis hadn't been able to pack much. His father had set up surveillance outside his room, and without his gear he was only able to introduce a six minute loop into the security camera watching his door. He'd grabbed a backpack left over from a heist in Munich. When he had opened his closet, he'd been stunned. Someone had gone through his things. It had all been put back almost exactly as it had been, but he could still tell.

He hadn't packed any of his suits. Instead he stuffed the backpack with clothes he'd used to disguise himself as a "normal teenager" on assorted recon operations. When he went to his desk to get his laptop and cell phone, he found that the locks on the drawers had been picked, and those items removed. He'd checked his desktop computer, and found the hard drive had been removed. He wanted to feel rage, but didn't have time.

He'd gone to hidden safe in the wall under his bed. At least that hadn't been tampered with. He'd taken 10,000 in cash and his credit cards. He threw them in his bag and walked out. What did a fifteen year old with sixty million in offshore accounts need to pack anyway?

There was a grunt from behind the door, not at all Butler like, and then the sound of someone climbing onto a chair. Artemis expression hadn't changed in the slightest, but he was rather surprised. The peephole went dark for a moment, there was more grunting, and the door opened.

"What are you doing here?" Mulch asked.

"I have a similar question for you," Artemis said.

"Butler didn't think you'd be able to get out of your house," Mulch said.

"It's hardly like Butler to underestimate me. I'd have been here sooner, but I was giving Father time to come to his senses. Are you going to let me in?"

Mulch shrugged and stepped back. Butler's suite was spacious but astoundingly disorganized. Papers littered the floor. On the coffee table, several laptop computers were open and running searches amid bags of chips, soiled paper napkins, and opened bottles of cola. That he could have blamed on Mulch, but the random armaments strewn across the couch and counters were some of Butler's special orders. Artemis went to the couch and sat, dropping his backpack by his feet. He shifted uncomfortably and pulled a 38 special out of the cushions. It was unloaded, at least.

"When will Butler be back?" Artemis asked.

"He said nine at the latest, said he was going to pick up his Christmas present. He looked all misty."

Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, he cleared his throat before he said he was going," Mulch clarified. "But with you stone-faced mud men, that's really something."

"Is Holly alright?" Artemis asked.

"She's asleep in the other room."

"Why?"

"Well, my theory is that she's tired," the dwarf replied.

"But why didn't she go back to Haven?"

Mulch explained. Artemis almost had a facial expression.

"Is Sool still insisting on this quarantine if she returns?" Artemis asked.

"According to Foaly there's a standing order to arrest her when she returns, but he couldn't keep it a priority. Not with all the other demon attacks."

"Haven's nearly on lockdown," Holly's voice called from the other room. "Almost every other shuttle of fairies coming up to do the Ritual is being attacked. I need to get down to Haven and give Sool a kick in the backside."

"Just out of curiosity," Artemis called, "Why don't you?"

Mulch threw an empty soda bottle at Artemis. It bounced off his head.

"Her legs still aren't working right," the dwarf hissed.

"And I was expected to know this?" Artemis asked, rubbing at his scalp.

"It was a plastic bottle," Mulch said in his defense.

There was a grunt in the other room and the sound of something being dragged across the carpet.

"Should we help her?" Artemis asked.

"She said she doesn't want help. Elf pride you know. She hits us when we try. Of course her hitting Butler is kinda' like punching a brick wall, so he picks her up and moves her around all the time. I think it annoys her, but you could give it a try. I'm staying here, though. There's nothing wrong with her fists."

Artemis went to the doorway, and looked into Holly's room. The elf was wearing yellow pajamas with ducks on them, probably the only clothes Butler could find in her size. She was crawling along on her elbows. Her feet were kicking behind her, as if she were trying to swim. He leaned down to help her up and she slapped him on the shin.

"I can do this on my own," she said.

"You could do it with help too," Artemis pointed out.

He grabbed her under the arms and stood her up so her feet were just barely touching the floor. She wasn't even half his weight.

"Let go, mud boy!" she said slapping at his arms.

"My Father did not learn to use his prosthetic leg by slapping his physical therapist," Artemis pointed out. "Move your legs as you normally would while walking. I'm supporting most of your weight so you won't fall. This will help you regain coordination."

"This isn't going to help," Holly insisted, though she did begin to take shaky steps forward. "I need to perform the Ritual again."

They made it to the living room without any further slapping. As soon as she was seated on the couch Holly began to search the laptops. Artemis saw she was studying several maps marked with what he suspected were attack locations and times.

"Foaly has been sending me everything he can get his hands on," Holly began. "There have been eight more attacks on the People. All of them occurred around ancient oaks. So far twenty two faries have died. Sool is busy astounding everyone with his incompetence. Foaly's been working with the Warlocks to find a way to track demons, but it's slow going. Until this week the People thought the demons were all banished. The High Warlocks went to check the borders of the Banishment and it's still intact. All 40,000 demons are accounted for. We're stuck with the conclusion that the demons carrying out these attacks were never in the Banishment to begin with."

"And the Banishment is something like the time field?" Artemis asked.

Holly shrugged. "I suppose. It's been so long that all knowledge of its construction is lost."

"But it has to be maintained?" Artemis asked.

"Yes. It takes a lot of magic. The warlocks who maintain it have to complete the Ritual every month. That's probably why the demons are burning the trees. The Oak at Tara is dying despite our best efforts."

"Do the demons have an analog to the Ritual?"

Holly's face grew pinched.

"According to legend, they get their magic from blood and death, instead of from the Earth as the People do. From what Foaly told me, they were thought to sacrifice either a human or a fairy life to work their magic. If that's true they must have been using humans exclusively for the last 10,000 years to avoid drawing our attention."

"And their abilities are similar? Shielding, Mesmer-"

"No!" Holly shouted, looking horrified.

"I didn't mean to offend you," Artemis said. "I simply don't know how their magic works in comparison to yours. All I've heard of demons are the stories passed down in human legends; they possess people, they steal souls, they grant wishes that go horribly wrong-"

"That's all true," Holly said.

Artemis frowned. "What else?"

"There were different types. It's something like the division between faries."

"Sprites, elves, gnomes, dwarfs, pixies, goblins, trolls, and centaurs," Artemis supplied.

"Right. But with demons there were…djinn, sirens, shades, wraith, imps, harpies, and dragons."

"Dragons?" asked Artemis.

Holly nodded. "But like I said, no one has seen a demon in 10,000 years. I think there are more, but I can't remember what they're called."

"You forgot unnamables," said Mulch. "And I thought they said wraith and shades were the same group, or subgroup or something."

"What can they do?" Artemis asked.

Holly scratched her head. "Sirens lived in water and were fond of drowning humans. I think they were supposed to have some sort of hypnotic power-"

"Like Mesmer?" Artemis asked.

"No," Holly said. "Theirs is auditory, not visual. It's completely different."

Artemis didn't argue further.

"Djinn could supposedly grant wishes in exchange for souls, but I have no idea how that is supposed to work. Something to do with altering Earth. I think wraith-"

"Or the wraith-shade subgroup," interrupted Mulch.

"The wraith were supposed to be able to go anywhere and steal life from humans or fairies. They're linked to air somehow, and so are Harpies. I don't know what Harpies are supposed to be able to do."

"They smell bad," said Mulch.

"Thanks for your input," said Holly sarcastically. "Dragons obviously have something to do with fire. That may have been the kind of Demon that I tangled with a Tara. I don't really know for certain. The demons attacking the shuttles are the same kind as the ones that attacked me. They may be the only kind still out there."

"I don't think we should assume anything at the moment. What about imps and unnamables?" Artemis asked.

Holly shrugged. "I'll query Foaly about those when he calls again. The thing they all have in common though, according to legend anyway, is that they can wear a human body, if they remove the human's soul first."

"How unpleasant," Artemis said. "Is there any way to tell if a human has a demon walking around inside them?"

"In _Body Snatchers at Tara XVII_ the crack team of rebel demon fighters made the demons look in a mirror, and their reflection was all wobbly and their eyes were glowing green," Mulch said. "Of course, in _Body Snatchers at Tara XVI, _their eyes glowed red. But that might have just been a special effects error."

"But at the moment the only hard data we have is what happened at Tara," Artemis said. "What do we know about the slime?"

"Mulch handed it off to Trouble," Holly said. "Foaly said the tests were inconclusive. A few hours after it arrived in the lab, the slime dried up and vanished. All they found in the bottom of the vase was a little bit of human blood."

Artemis looked at the blinking computer screens on the table. If demons were running around, then human beings must have seen them. There would be clues. There would be a trail he could follow, just like the one he had followed to find the fairies.

"I need to use these," he said as he picked up a laptop and began to type.

* * *

**The Green Dolphin Inn, The Parking Lot**

Butler sat behind the wheel, looking at nothing through the windshield. The drive from Dublin hadn't taken more then an hour. The car nearly flew. He hadn't tried all the features yet. Maybe it could.

He looked at the key still bearing its GPS tag as it sat in the ignition. According to the manual in the glove box, he didn't actually need the key. The car's internal computer had been preprogrammed with his biometric data. All he had to do was press his thumb to a panel.

He shifted in the seat. Everything else in the car was on the cutting edge of technology, probably worth millions, but oddly enough, he liked the seat best. Most people didn't understand how uncomfortable it was to drive in a car designed for a person a foot shorter than you were. He was usually forced to contort himself in all manner of unpleasant ways to operate anything smaller then a Humvee, or the Fowls' limousines.

He looked up at the inn. The lights in his suite were on. He didn't want to get out of the car. It wasn't that he didn't want to help Holly and Mulch with their research. It distracted him from his current crisis at least. But as soon as he got out of the car, he'd start thinking about it again.

Butlers were not fired. Butlers died in the line of duty. Butlers lost two or more limbs and retired gracefully from service. Butlers got too old and turned their charge over to their sons or nephews. Butlers were not fired.

He looked up at the window again, and saw a shadow pass across it, too tall to be Mulch, too short to be an adult human. He saw the outline for only an instant, but he recognized him. For a moment there was elation, then dread. He got out of the car and closed the door. It locked itself.

"Has anyone stopped by to talk to me?" Butler asked at the check-in desk.

"No sir, no calls either," replied the manager.

At least Artemis had not directly announced his arrival.

Butler climbed the stairs slowly. He would have to drive Artemis home. They had chosen the Green Dolphin Inn as a fall back point, in case they were for some reason unable to approach Fowl Manor. The original plan was designed in case the Manor was overrun by law enforcement or LEPrecon. Butler had gone there because the rooms were reserved and paid for under one of his aliases and completely off the Fowl computer systems in case they were compromised, not because he expected Artemis to follow him there. The hallway was empty, but he rattled his keys just in case, alerting Holly and Mulch that they should get out of sight.

Artemis was seated nonchalantly on the couch, fiddling around with several of the computers Butler had acquired for Holly.

"You shouldn't be here. Your parents will be worried," Butler said.

"I've found something I think might be useful," Artemis stated as if he hadn't heard Butler at all. "We're having a teleconference with Foaly in a few minutes, to exchange data."

"Artemis, your parents-"

"You needn't worry about them. It took me all of five minutes to hack into the court's files and get the restraining order erased."

"Your parents will be worried," Butler said.

"Mother is, at least. While I was going through police records I found a missing persons report she filed this morning. I've sent her an e-mail assuring her that I am safe."

"Artemis, you need to go home," Butler said.

The boy snorted. "So I can be locked in the 'guest room' for another three days straight? I think I'll pass. It became tedious after the first few minutes."

"This isn't the kind of problem that will sort itself out," Butler began.

One of the computers beeped and Foaly's face appeared.

"Where's Holly?" was the first thing he asked.

"Asleep," Artemis said. "Mulch is in the refrigerator if that was your next question."

"In-? Never mind. What have you found?" Foaly asked.

"The demons," Artemis said simply.

The centaur on the screen glared at him. "Well? Are you going to give me any details, mud boy?"

"If the price is right."

"You little brat," was the nicest thing he said about Artemis in the following few minutes.

"I wish to speak to the Haven council," Artemis said. "If they want to know what's going on--and their lives depend on them knowing--then they will have to lift the warrants for Holly and remove Sool as head of the Lower Elements Police."

"What am I supposed to do about that?" Foaly asked, calming down. "You know I want to help Holly, but I don't have enough sway with the counsel to get that done."

"But they need what I know."

"Artemis," called Holly from the other room.

Butler fetched her, and set her on the couch.

"Artemis," she said. "I know you're trying to help, but the council won't let you boss them around. They're stubborn. If you push then they'll push back."

"They'll have to listen when the attacks continue."

"Artemis," Holly said again, pulling on his sleeve. "My problems with Sool aren't worth People dying over."

"Sometimes I think you are far too moral," Artemis said with an exaggerated sigh. "Foaly, can you tap into this laptop?"

The centaur snorted. "I've been tapped in since you turned it on."

"Then I suppose you don't need me to explain it,"

"I didn't say that," Foaly said. "Mud men 'logic' isn't exactly obvious to those of us who think normally."

"What do you see on your screen?" Artemis asked.

"It's something about a virus," Foaly said. "Which has nothing to do with anything."

"Except if the viral disease causes Oak Blight."

"What?" asked everyone in the room except Artemis. Even Mulch's voice echoed from the fridge.

Artemis opened a new page on the screen. Orange patches marked incidences of Oak Blight throughout Europe and North America. It covered a large portion of both continents.

"Over the past five hundred years the growing human population has cleared most of Europe's Oak forests. The going was slower in North America, but-"

"We already know humans are ecologically unpleasant," Foaly said.

"But not all humans," Artemis said. "Over the past century, conservation has really caught on, at least in Europe. Forests are even recovering."

"Which is bad news for the demons if they were waiting for humans to wipe the oaks out," Holly said.

Artemis nodded. "Oak Blight has always been present," he said, typing away at the computers. The orange patches began to grow. "The way it is spreading now is not at all natural. It doesn't follow wind dispersal patterns or animal migrations. But it does follow one thing."

He brought up another screen.

_**The Arbor Society of Forden Row.**_

_**Preserving Nature's Wonders Since 1973.**_

"This conservation group's research team has preceded the arrival of Oak Blight into 90 percent of affected areas since its inception."

"And you believe they're spreading it on purpose?" Foaly asked.

"I don't see how it could be otherwise, but if you need proof, their headquarters are located in London," Artemis said.

"And you believe we should send in a recon team?" Foaly said.

Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"Hardly. They've managed to hide from the People for 10,000 years. Would it not be prudent to assume they have some way to detect and avoid such incursions?"

"So what are you suggesting?" Foaly demanded.

Artemis turned on the couch toward the other human in the room.

"Butler, I do believe I have a job for you, if you're interested."


	7. Trouble for Trouble

**Author's note: **Sorry this update took so long. My internet is down. Also I'm building on a few things mentioned in book one, chapter one. Hopefully I'm not taking too much creative license. Don't forget to review.

**Chapter 6: The Trouble with Trouble **

**Fowl Manor**

Mrs. Angelina Fowl settled back in the chair and, after carefully looking over both of her shoulders, she turned on the laptop. She could hear her husband in the study, arguing with the detective agency he'd hired to track their son. Apparently Arty had slipped out of Ireland in the company of Butler and a considerable amount of luggage. She looked behind her again and opened her email.

_Hello Mother,_

_I apologize for troubling you. I have decided to investigate a few investment opportunities in London. Butler_ _is escorting me. I suppose Father has not yet come to his senses. We spotted several of his "detectives" on our way to the airport. I am not certain if he wished me to know that they were there or if he is simply out of practice when it comes to delegating espionage. Please inform him that I will not prevent Butler_ _from breaking their fingers should they continue their harassment._

_This is not the direction I wished this communiqué to proceed. It is snowing in the city and the Christmas displays are garish. There was a robotic nativity scene set up just outside the airport. Bale Loma has just premiered a new collection of Brazilian emeralds. I have found a few I think you will like. I apologize again for upsetting you. _

_Sincerely,_

_Artemis _

She pressed her hand to her mouth. Something was definitely wrong. Her son was a talented writer, but this note, like the others, was short and almost awkward. Arty was lost. She could feel it. He was getting more lost every second. It wasn't fair.

She thought things would be alright. A year ago they had received a miracle. Timmy had come back to them, as if he had just fallen out of the sky. Arty hadn't seemed all that surprised. She knew somewhere deep down that he'd had something to do with it, just as she suspected he had something to do with her own recovery, but he refused to even hint at how he had managed. He would just smile faintly and vanish into his room or back to school, Butler trailing like a shadow. Arty was becoming a ghost in their lives. This wasn't how she'd expecting things to end up, trading one ghost for another.

She logged out and shut down the computer. Slowly she climbed out of the chair and made her way to the study, where her husband was stomping about. She pushed open the door.

"Arty sent me an Email. He says he's fine and he's offended that you're having him followed," she said.

Her husband looked at her with a faintly annoyed expression. "So I should simply let him go running off into lord knows what kind of danger with that ineffective bodyguard? Perhaps you should stop and think about that for a moment Angelina."

She felt her face coloring. "Perhaps you should think about the fact that Arty has been running off into danger since you got on that infernal cargo ship and got yourself blown into a coma for three years. It's been years since he has been subject to any sort of discipline outside of what he imposes on himself. I know a great deal of that is my fault, but we were not the most attentive parents even before that tragedy and you can not expect such an independent person to simply give that up now that we are ready to devote some attention to him!"

"What else am I supposed to do?" Artemis Fowl the first asked in frustration.

"Arty will come back when he's ready. I think we should be worrying about what we are going to say to him when he does. We barely know who he is anymore."

He husband frowned, forehead creasing the same way their son's did when he was deep in thought.

"I need to find out what he's been up to."

Angelina frowned. "He won't appreciate you digging into his activities anymore then he does you having him follows. Why don't you just ask him?"

"Do you honestly think he would tell me?"

She could only frown in response.

**Forden Row, London**

Artemis adjusted the camera in his bodyguard's tie.

"I don't see why you're bothering with those," Foaly said through the com connection, as Butler ran checks on the sound. "Why use mud technology when you have our best?"

"A backup is never a waste if the primaries are disabled," Butler pointed out.

Foaly sighed loudly.

Artemis brought up the live feed on his laptop. The footage was grainy in comparison to the iris camera Butler had borrowed off of Trouble. Trouble frowned. He didn't know why they were getting mud man germs all over his equipment if they were going to use their own. In fact he wondered why he had been dispatched to the surface at all. He was somewhat relieved they hadn't bothered to send an entire recon squad.

"This isn't going to work," Trouble said. "Foaly has already hacked their systems. Aside from a few unprofessional intra office emails and a bit of creativity with their tax exemptions, they aren't anymore suspicious then any other 'charitable' organization mud men run."

Trouble stared at Artemis intently, but the mud boy didn't respond. Trouble huffed and strode off. He didn't know what Holly saw in him. He wished he'd been sent to Ireland to look after Holly, instead of "looking out for the counsel's interests" in an icy industrial section of London. All Fairies hate the cold and daylight, and he was stuck surrounded by both in the back of an automobile that guzzled enough hydrocarbon fuel to melt the ice caps all by itself. Of course maybe he wouldn't be freezing his pointed ears off then.

"Ready?" Artemis asked his bodyguard.

Butler nodded and opened the door of the Humvee. Despite the carefully calibrated shocks, the vehicle tilted and resettled as the massive weight was removed. _He has to be part troll_, Trouble thought as he brought up the feed from Butler's eye in the corner of his own helmet screen. They watch Butler march down the sidewalk, climb the steps, and ring the bell. A gray haired woman in an expensive dress admitted him with a friendly wave.

"There appears to be a crucifix in the door frame," Artemis said.

Trouble played back the view of the entrance way. He nodded. "Looks like it's not a demon building after all."

"Not necessarily," Artemis said. "It may be there to keep out supernatural competition. Is passing through a sanctified door as bad for a Fairy as drinking Holy water?"

"I've never tried to pass through one, and as I'm still alive, I've never had a drink of Holy water," Trouble said. "Even if the door wasn't sanctified we couldn't go in without an invitation."

"You can't enter a human dwelling with out an invitation. We aren't dealing with humans," Artemis said.

"Even if that symbol was meant to keep us out," Trouble said. "We could get through the windows easily enough."

Artemis pressed the talk button on the micro-communicator in Butler's ear.

"Take a look at the window please."

The view changed. Every window had a little crucifix above it.

"How would they get in?" Trouble said, not wanting the smug teenager to be right.

"The roof or the subbasement," Artemis said. "Most likely underground access. There are sewer maintenance tunnels running under the building."

"Who put up the crosses then?"

"They can't all be demons," Artemis said.

"What about…ah!" Trouble cut himself off.

There was a human face pressed up against the window, barely a foot from his head. It was a teenage male in a school uniform. Behind him several other teenagers lounged, book bags hanging loosely from their shoulders. The one leaning on the window tapped the glass sharply as if he expected a response.

"You need not alarm yourself," Artemis said. "The windows are completely reflective, and the vehicle is soundproof."

Trouble was not entirely convinced, and remained silent until the teenagers had moved on. He was a bit surprised when they followed Butler's foot steps, and entered the building without knocking.

* * *

The Headquarters of the Arbor Society was a hulking seven story building in a heavily industrialized area of London. It was surrounded for the most part by garment factories, where recent immigrants to the UK, legal and other wise, worked long into the night to make ends meet. Many worked the whole night through. It was not that they did not get tired, or that they did not want to go home. It was more to do with the fact that a significant number of people who left the dim lights of the factories in quite hours before dawn never returned.

The outside of the building was decorated with many styles and colors of graffiti, most in spray paint, but some in a mysterious red hued sludge that no one wanted to look too closely at. The inside was much nicer, well cared for, if inexpensive office furniture, neatly dressed employees who expressed slightly exhausted affection for their jobs, posters advertising numerous projects to improve the environment. It all seemed very genuine.

Mrs. Hawthorne, a short well dressed woman with gray hair and a thick layer of pancake makeup, the society's current chairwoman, seemed very genuine as well. After giving prospective members a tour of the building, she invited them back to her office to go over their applications. Most of her guests expressed a great interest in either ecology or tax write-offs, but today's applicant seemed to be in a different class all together. His credit had checked out, but something was decidedly off about him.

"I like trees," the huge man said.

From behind her desk she nodded and flipped through the application again. She noted the form was similarly monotonous.

"Our organization requires a great deal of commitment," she said, putting her palms down on the huge oak desk that separated them. "Working with the Arden Foundation is about more then signing petitions and collecting litter every other Saturday. You have to be willing to put your heart, your very soul into the work. We can't accept anything less. The question I have for you is; are you willing to give that much?"

The huge man's expression did not change but something in his bearing suddenly tensed.

"I like trees," he repeated.

Mrs. Hawthorne sighed. "Perhaps you should give this a bit more thought and come back next week. Karen, at the desk at the end of the hall, will set up an appointment for you or you can call."

The man nodded and stood. The woman rose as well. She held out her hand and he shook it. As he let go the rough edge of one of her nails scratched a thin line on the back of his thumb. Blood welled up.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," she said, handing him a tissue.

"It's nothing," the man said.

He turned and left.

* * *

Artemis adjusted the feed on the button camera which Butler had planted on the back of the door as he left. The woman sank back into the chair behind the desk, and stuck her blood flecked finger in her mouth.

"Creepy," Trouble muttered.

"But not conclusive," Foaly's voice pointed out from the speakers. "Some of you mud men are just plain weird."

Artemis said nothing until Butler returned to the Humvee. As he waited he reordered the stills he'd captured from Butler's tour of the building. He examined several pictures of the teenagers who had entered the building.

"You know them?" Trouble asked.

"I recognize several from assorted 'family' exposés on CEO's in financial magazines I subscribe to. They're heirs to billions with access to world powers."

"Going to make friends?" Trouble asked.

Artemis snorted. "They're teenagers."

Trouble waited for a follow up. There was none. Artemis put away the pictures of people and brought up a random selection of blank walls and carpeting. He studied those until the door opened and Butler climbed in.

"Let me see your finger," Artemis said, as he pulled a small silver bottle out of his suit pocket. As he did this he brought up the feed from the camera Butler had planted in Hawthorne's office. She was still sucking on her finger and she had a strange glazed expression on her face. Butler started to turn towards his employer but Artemis pointed sharply toward the front wind shield. Butler turned his face away without comment. Artemis popped the top on bottle. Trouble crawled as far back in the car as he could get, back pressed against the rear window. The water looked as clear and clean as any but as it landed on Butler's injured thumb, smoke rose. From inside the building Mrs. Hawthorne shrieked. It was not a human sound. Her eyes took on a strange glowing quality and then the camera blew out.

"I think that was fairly probative," Artemis said, capping the bottle and returning it to his coat.

**The Wilier Hotel, Room 348, London**

Artemis sat on the couch drinking bottled water and watching the computer screen with a faintly scornful expression. Trouble sat next to him looking over the packaged snacks room service had left in the basket on the coffee table. He couldn't find a single item that didn't have either a lethal dose of sodium, or a nauseating amount of corn syrup. The teleconference had begun just after sunset and now midnight was closing in on them. Trouble was getting hungry to the point of desperation.

"We'll send in a Recon squad," Sool declared pompously, for the eighth time.

"That is still a bad idea," Artemis said. "You don't know enough about their abilities and they know they've been found out because of Butler. You need a LEPrecon team up here, but not to break into their stronghold. I suggest following all employees that leave by the unsanctified exits."

"We need to stop them now Fowl. Taking out their headquarters is the only way to do that," Sool said.

"We have yet to establish that this is their headquarters. An assault on this building may be more like a nail clipping then a decapitation."

"Fowl, you are not included when I say 'we'," Sool said.

Artemis rolled his eyes.

"Then you may wish to consider what could happen if you tip your hand at this stage. So far the demons only know that Butler suspects them. If they know the People have a lead on them, they could leave, or worse, set a trap."

"We need results!" Sool declared as the counsel members started to look over the plans Artemis had sent them.

"How can someone so old have so little patience?" the human asked.

"Major Kelp," Sool shouted. "You will lead a Recon mission to secure that building tonight, and I want prisoners for questioning."

Trouble frowned. They might be able to chase everyone out of the building with laser fire, but the demons had seemed more annoyed then injured by the neutrino blasts they'd used on them at the Ancient oak, and he didn't think much of Holly's hand to hand strategy with a buzz baton. He looked over at Artemis, who was watching Holly on the conference screen. Foaly had spliced her in despite Sool's objections.

"Sool," she said, "Think for a moment. We haven't dealt with demons in 10,000 years. Anything could happen-"

"A LEPrecon team can handle this. They are trained to handle this." Sool stated.

"They're trained to deal with out of control Fairies on the run and occasionally the mud men when they see too much," Holly said.

"And they're doing a great job of that," Artemis said, raising an eyebrow.

Sool ground his teeth.

"The demons at the Ancient oak retreated under fire," counsel member Vinyaya pointed out.

"They retreated, but Recon couldn't catch them," Holly said. "They couldn't even find a trace of them."

"That's enough Short!" Sool shouted. "You aren't even in the LEP any more. Major Kelp, I'll have a team prepped and on the surface by sunset tomorrow. Use the architectural specs Foaly has pulled and plan a room by room search. No screw-ups."

"Sool please!" Holly started to begged. "This is a mistake-"

But before she could really get groveling Fowl broke in.  
"This will interfere with my own investigation," the human boy said. "Butler will be running ops tomorrow night. Your recon team would only be in the way."

"Stay out of this Fowl!" Sool shouted. "This is none of your business."

"I disagree. It looks like very profitable business, which is always my kind of business."

"Fowl-" Sool growled.

"Just when I think there are no more supernatural beings to blackmail for otherworldly wealth, this drops into my lap."

"Fowl don't you dare-"

"When morality closes a door, it opens a window. Speaking of windows, how does your recon team plan to get out of the building in a hurry if there are no mud men around to de-sanctify the windows? Even if you can enter the building because it isn't a human dwelling, you can't do anything about those blessed objects if you have to leave in a hurry."

"Recon can blow a hole in a wall if they have to."

"And no one is going to notice that I'm sure."

"Stay out of this Fowl!"

"I'd say 'make me' but I already know you don't have the resources. Additionally that phrase is cliché and extremely immature."

"Fowl, I'll have you mind wiped back to pre-school!"

"Perhaps," interrupted councilmember Vinyaya "A joint effort would be more prudent at this stage."

The other council members nodded. Sool glared at her, but she didn't seem bothered.

Trouble started going over the plans for the raid. He could hear Holly and Artemis still talking, long after the rest of the counsel had disconnected.

"-shouldn't beg," Fowl was saying angrily. "Sool's-"

"In charge, Artemis. He makes decisions that can get my friends killed. If sacrificing a bit of pride can make him change his mind, it's worth it."

"Butler will keep them safe Holly. We can do this."

"You should go home Artemis. It's not your fight."

"You are one of the few living beings on the planet I consider a friend, Holly. Your fights are my fights."

Trouble brought up another overview of the building, and tried to silence the little voice in his head that said maybe Fowl wasn't so bad after all.


	8. The worst laid plans

**Chapter 7: The Worst Laid Plans**

**Forden Row, London**

Artemis knelt on the edge of the roof to adjust the tripod.

"What's taking so long?" Foaly demanded.

Artemis adjusted the knobs on the bottom of the dome shaped device. He checked one of the small monitors which hung from the bottom of the dome like the tentacles of a jelly fish, and like a jelly fish it was continually stinging his hands, though with sparks instead of Nematocysts. He hissed as another shock traveled up his arm.

"I'm still not getting any feed," Foaly whined.

"Then the problem is in the design," Artemis said crossly.

"The design is flawless," Foaly said.

Artemis lifted his binoculars, searching the other roofs in the area. The LEPrecon squad had brought up four of the recently patented scanning devices to track the progress of the break-in they had planned for that night. Artemis picked out a flicker of motion two buildings to the north. Two members of the squad were shaking angry fists at their domes. He flipped through the communicator channels, every line but Foaly's was filled with angry muttering. Though his understanding of gnomish was limited he was quite certain he was learning several new forms of profanity.

"Are any of the other scanners working?" Artemis asked, switching back.

After some inarticulate muttering, Foaly said "no."

"It's likely that the demons have developed a way to block your scanning equipment," Artemis said.

"Impossible," Foaly said.

Artemis only rolled his eyes. The fairies were continuously underestimating the potential danger of the situation.

He turned as the fire escape rattled. Butler hauled himself up over the edge of the roof. He was dressed from head to toe in black Kevlar body armor, and his face was blurred with grease paint. Goggles covered his eyes and the handles of assorted weapons stuck up from his back like porcupine quills.

"You should be in the car," Butler said for the hundredth time.

As he spoke his teeth flashed in the dim light. They were the only part of him not blending into the night around them.

"I will remain here. It is unlikely the security measures in that building," he nodded toward the Arbor Society, "will extend this far. If a situation should arise in which you need my help, the car is prohibitively far away."

"Ready?" interrupted Major Trouble.

They looked over at him, but he was shielded, and only visible as shimmer in the air.

"Foaly's scanners are not working," Artemis said. "But we must proceed."

"I'm leaving Corporal Grub with you to watch the perimeter," Trouble announced.

Another shimmer appeared next to him. Artemis was not exactly pleased, since Grub would probably end up shooting himself or Artemis in the foot if real danger did arrive. He suspected Trouble was assigning his younger brother this job to keep him out of danger, rather then because he thought he'd be a competent guard. He didn't say anything though. Other shimmers appeared as the LEPrecon squad assembled.

"Be careful," Artemis said needlessly as Butler was hooking cables to the wings of several of the squad members, so they could carry him to the roof across the street. Instead of speaking Butler pulled a knife as long as Artemis' arm from his boot, and put the hilt in Artemis' hand.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

The mission itself was simple; enter and search the building for evidence of demonic activity, without being detected. If they found this was indeed a demon stronghold, a bio-bomb would be called in. Yes, it was all very simple, except they didn't know if a bio-bomb would work against demons, or any of their other weapons for that matter, and since they were in the middle of London, they couldn't call in a warlock team to set a time field to contain the area, and their scanners couldn't tell them what was inside, and they couldn't expect back-up, and Artemis refused to wait in the car…

Butler's eyes whirled over the building as they approached. He'd already noted all the mundane security measures on the building. Those had been dealt with. Power to the alarm system had been cut. The building didn't have security camera's except right outside the front entrance, so there was nothing for the LEP to tap into. The cameras he had planted during his earlier visit to Forden Row had ceased to function as well. In his head he ran through the blue prints he had memorized, again recalling all the ingresses and egresses.

Butler had done everything humanly possible to prepare for this recon mission. The only problem, he thought as his feet touched down on the gravel roof and he released the cables, was that things were going to happen far outside the scope of human.

He moved toward the door. It stuck up from the roof amid vents and air-conditioning sheds. His lock picks had the door open in under three seconds. He checked the steps for pressure alarms before proceeding down the unlit well. The light from the doorway faded after a few steps. Butler flipped on his night vision goggles. His radio hissed.

"There's some kind of E.M interference," Trouble told him over the static pocked channel. "Our coms are going out."

Butler went through a series of hand signs. RETREAT?

"Not yet," Trouble said.

Butler scanned the hall at the bottom of the steps. It was empty, just like the next hall, and the next. They planted their own cameras, but those refused to function. Every office they checked was filled only with office supplies. They moved down to the next floor and found the same. The LEPrecon team, with the exception of Trouble, were starting to relax. Some were even chattering in low voices with their visors open, as the radios had given out completely.

They had worked their way down to the third floor when it happened. An office door opened and a short dark figure darted into the hallway ahead of them.

"I think it's an Imp," Trouble said.

Butler nodded. That information wasn't exactly useful.

The creature looked at first glance rather like a dwarf, a hairy, squat little being with a roughly human shape. But as it came towards them its head sunk down into its body, like a turtle going into its shell. Its chest split open exposing its face again. Three new arms sprouted from the neck. Butler's laser sight put a little dot in the center of its forehead, which was also the center of its chest.

It made a strange clicking sound that set Butler's teeth on edge. Trouble groaned.

"It's saying something but I can't translate it. Feels like my head's going to implode," the elf said.

As he spoke another office opened, and another creature darted out. It started clicking as well.

"Do you speak English?" Butler asked.

The clicking got louder and more of the creatures came out, some from the rooms their team had already swept and declared clear.

"This is starting to look bad," Trouble said, a moment before the Imps charged.

888888888888888888888888888888888

Artemis looked up from the scanning-pod again. He was certain he heard wings flapping, rather loudly and closely. He'd been trying to raise Butler, but now even his radio equipment was dying out.

"I heard it again," Artemis said to Grub.

"It's just pigeons, Mud boy," the elf replied, boredly pushing a pebble with his foot.

Artemis looked across the roof tops once more. He saw nothing. He tried to use some rapid meditation techniques to slow his heart, but he was having little success. He swallowed and got to his feet, settling the pod back in its useless upright position. He went to the far corner of the roof and looked over into the alley. It was empty. He crept along the edge, searching.

The flapping came again. He turned, intending to command Grub to pay attention. He saw that Grub already was.

The elf was looking up at the five huge creatures flapping above their roof. At first Artemis saw nothing but birds, monstrously large birds, with thick talons stretching out and flexing as they circled. Some part of his brain demanded that he focus on a detail that had been pushed aside as he darted behind an air conditioner to hide.

The birds had human heads. Matted filthy hair covered their scalps instead of feathers. The faces were twisted in snarls and crusty black slime ran from their noses, the corners of their eyes, and their mouths. A foul smell filled the air and it made his head spin. _Harpies_, Artemis thought as he heard Grub fire his gun. There was a lot of flapping and several thuds, as large bodies hit the roof.

Grub shouted and there was a clatter as something metal and plastic bounced across the roof towards him. Artemis peaked out around the air conditioner and saw Grub's gun halfway between himself and the dark flapping creatures that now surrounded the elf. Artemis crept towards the gun. The creatures didn't turn as he picked it up. He aimed and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He flipped the weapon over, and saw tinny gnomish script scrolling across the display screen.

SAFETY LOCK OUT. HUMAN IN POSSESSION OF LEP TECHNOLOGY. COUNTER MEASURES IN 5…4…

He dropped the gun. They'd put devices in it to keep him from stealing it. It was their own fault he couldn't help. The Harpies had not noticed him. It was a good a time as any to run. His hand went to the knife Butler had given him. He'd probably end up doing more damage to himself if he tried to use it.

Artemis' mind whirled as he watched the creatures knock Grub around. The elf had pulled his buzz baton, but the electric shocks were hardly keeping the Harpies at bay. They hissed and seemed to be laughing as the smaller creature swung at them. They moved like birds, implying similar musculature. Wing spans of approximately twenty feet implied the mass of the creatures couldn't have been more then fifty kilograms if they were depending solely on physical forces for lift. From that he inferred they probably had the same light, fragile, honey comb bone structure a bird would. His eyes drifted to the scanning-pod. He did the calculations.

Grub howled as the creatures tumbled him around, knocking away the buzz baton, his last weapon. He cried out again as they managed to work his helmet loose, exposing his face to their claws. Grub shouted something in Gnomish. Artemis hadn't picked up every nucence of the language, but it sounded suspiciously like he was calling for his mommy.

Artemis lifted the pod and charged.

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Butler was running out of bullets. He had gone through all thirty six back up clips, and all his hold out weapons. He still had one emergency clip for his Sig Saoer, with ten rounds, but in the face of hundreds of howling hissing demons, it wouldn't have made much of a difference. He braced his feet and swung at the charging Imps with a fifty caliber rifle which was now a club. The LEPrecons were spraying the Imps with laser fire but there were so many of the creatures it didn't seem to matter.

"I think…a retreat…is in order," Trouble said between shots.

Butler grabbed one of the Imps and tossed it back into the group. To get out they would have to get to an exterior wall. He didn't foresee that happening any time soon. The demons didn't spring their trap until the team was almost in the exact center of the building. Butler pulled a tiny C4 charge from his belt and tossed it to Trouble. He pointed to the wall.

The elf planted the charge and they backed up even further.

The blast knocked the Imps off their feet and knocked most of the elves out of the air. Shrapnel flew everywhere. Butler covered his face just in time. He felt other things bouncing off his body armor. Butler pulled another charge from his belt as he backed up. The LEPrecon team scrambled through the hole.

"That wall," he ordered Trouble, handing off another explosive.

He clubbed an Imp and kicked another. Their claws scrabbled across his armor whenever he was in contact with them, but they had yet to pierce it.

The C4 went off.

This time he didn't bring up his hands fast enough. Splintered wood jammed itself into his cheek just under his eye. He was too close to the blast this time. He could hear nothing but ringing as he watched the creatures charging again. He held out another lump of explosives to Trouble and pointed at the wall behind the one they had just knocked down.

He hoped they'd find the exterior wall soon. He only had five charges left.

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Artemis wasn't sure how it had happened. It was something of a tilting, jarring blur to be honest. He remembered clearly the first blow, the scanning-pod cracking against one of the creature's heads, but after that it was just red flashes, sickening crunches and black feathers. He swung the pod like a sledge hammer until he got to Grub, curled up in a ball and trying to protect his face. It was probably more surprise then anything else that allowed him to chase the Harpies away for those few vital moments. He dropped the pod, grabbed Grub's arm and ran.

The fire escape was too far away and too exposed. He skidded to a stop in front of an air vent and pulled the grill off. There wasn't much room. The vent went down about four feet before branching off into narrow ducts that not even Grub could have fit through, but it was their only option. He shoved Grub into the cramped space and crawled in after him. He pulled the cover back in to place, but there was no way to lock it down. He was forced to hold it there to keep the creatures from pulling them out.

The Harpies tugged at the vent with their talons, but they couldn't get a strong enough grip to pull it out of Artemis' hands. Unfortunately they could still get the ends of their talons through the grill. They clawed at his fingers as he struggled to hold the cover between them.

Grub was crushed against him, getting bounced off the metal walls every time Artemis had to pull on the vent cover. Artemis glance over his shoulder and saw the elf was sparking faintly, obviously running low on healing magic after his run in with the creatures. Artemis hissed as one of the Harpies claws caught the knuckles of his right hand. He looked at the bleeding scratch. In the dim light it didn't appear to have any venom in it. He supposed he was rather lucky that the Harpies were not as poisonous as the demons that had attacked Holly at Tara.

Artemis couldn't see his watch but it felt like he had been crouched in the air conditioner for hours when help finally arrived. There was a scuffling sound and a few shrieks. He heard flapping as the Harpies scattered. The talons were withdrawn and a single shadow took their place.

"The area is secure. You can come out," Butler said.

Artemis sighed and scooted forward lowering the vent cover that he had been using as a shield. "It certainly took you-"

A single Harpy stood less then two feet away, it's wings spread out and up to make it appear larger. The others had backed to the edge of the roof to get out of his field of view.

"Pretty eyes," the Harpy said with Butler's voice.

Artemis started to bring the vent cover up but he wasn't fast enough. He saw the talons coming for his face and then the world vanished. He could still feel the vent cover in his hands and he crawled backwards, blind and desperate. He heard wings flapping around him, and he banged his head on the vent as he cowered further in. He bumped the semi-conscience Grub, and could not go further. They started pulling on the vent cover again, their claws digging into his fingers. _Butler_ _isn't coming._

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On the third floor of the Arbor Society, a wall exploded outward, peppering the street below with bits of brick, glass and wood. The LEPrecon squad took to the air, except for Trouble, who crouched by the hole they'd punched, covering Butler with laser fire until the large human could get cables out to the squad for a lift. As soon as he was up, Trouble leapt out of the building. The Imps rushed forward to the hole, clacking and hissing. The horrible creatures jumped up and down, but none came out after them.

The squad lowered Butler to the street and took off again. Some hovered and fired into the building they had just left. Trouble frowned, and tried to raise Foaly on his comm. A sort of garbled shout came through. He saw Butler waving up at him, and dropped a ten yards to hover at eye level.

"Anything on the radio yet?" Butler asked.

Trouble shook his head. "It doesn't look like we're going to get in there any time soon. Are we calling this off before the mud-police get here to check out the explosions?" the elf asked.

Butler frowned. "I'm going to check with Artemis first," he said, heading for the fire-escape in the alley across the street.

Trouble nodded and gained some altitude so he could yell at the elves who continued to hover in front of the hole in the target building, taking pot shots at the Imps. As Butler pulled himself up the rickety iron steps a thought occurred to him. It seemed almost as if the Imps were trying to keep his attention. It was also strange that Artemis hadn't come to the edge of the roof to see what was going on. Butler climbed faster.

He was having difficulty breathing as he reached the roof, but he remained silent as he peered over the edge. He heard voices from across the building, but saw no sign of his charge, or the elf who was supposed to be watching him. He saw motion and inched his way across the building towards five dark shapes that were hopping around an air vent. Butler considered launching a flare to bring the rest of the LEPrecon squad to assist, but decided against it.

"Come out little boy!" a female voice called.

One of the shadowy things threw itself against the vent with a resounding clang.

"It won't hurt for long!" she insisted.

"We've got your eyes, come and get them back," another called.

Butler loaded his last clip, adjusted the silencer, and aimed carefully. The bullets made the barest of whispering hisses as they found their targets. The creatures shrieked and turned. Three took to the air, but his shots found them and they plummeted back to the roof or over the side to the ground eight stories below. He heard startled shouts from the elves.

He went to inspect the fallen demons. They were probably Harpies, based on their combined bird and human morphologies. One was flapping weakly. The others lay still and as he watched they turned to ash and vanished in the wind. Butler aimed at the remaining one, and squeezed the trigger again, but there was an empty click. The last Harpy looked at him, and smiled.

"Butler! Please help me please, there's so much blood please! Butler!" it said in Artemis' voice.

The bodyguard couldn't tell if it was repeating things or just trying to distract him. He kicked it in the head and it went still. Keeping the creature in his line of sight, he approached the vent. There was blood leaking through the grate and he could just barely see Artemis' slashed and bloodied fingers holding the cover in place. His charge was alive at least. He knelt down by the vent.

"They're dead, Artemis. You can come out," Butler said.

If Artemis didn't respond soon he would have to tear the vent out of his hands.

"Artemis, come out," he repeated.

"You aren't you," Artemis said weakly. "Go 'way."

Two contractions in less then a minute, things were definitely wrong.

"It's Domovoi, Artemis," the huge bodyguard said.

There was a long pause, and then he heard shifting in the vent. The LEPrecon squad was just catching up. As Trouble landed on the edge of the roof, the vent cover dropped with a resounding clang.

"Where's Grub?" Trouble demanded, stumbling over his younger brother's smashed helmet. "The mud boy better not have-"

Butler glared at him, but Trouble's threat had already died in his throat. Artemis' hands were stretching out of the vent. The skin on both of them was raggedly torn and bleeding freely. Artemis' hands waved about, but he came no further. Butler leaned down and peered into the shadows of the vent. His face hardened. Here was failure again. He caught one of Artemis' hands.

"Butler?" Artemis asked hoarsely.

"Yes," he said.

Artemis crawled out, pulling the dazed corporal Grub behind him. The LEPrecon officers couldn't do much besides stare. Trouble escorted his brother away from the injured human teenager. Artemis Fowl's face was covered in blood, but his bearing was strangely calm.

"Next time, I will wait in the car," he announced.

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**Author's Note:** Hey everyone who is still reading this fic! It's gone a bit AU, since I started it before the Lost Colony came out. I was kind of bummed. Those demons weren't very demonic.


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